


Tales of Cupid and Psyche

by DemonSaya



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 79,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonSaya/pseuds/DemonSaya
Summary: Jareth's mother has found out about Sarah rejecting her son. And she's very, VERY unhappy.
Relationships: Jareth & Sarah Williams, Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 34
Kudos: 92





	1. Prologue

The Underground is a vast realm, the darker, more dangerous relative of the Above. Within the realm are many different areas of rule, many kingdoms, living separate yet in a strange harmony. Kings and queens were not necessarily one of the race they ruled. Once such kingdom was that of the Goblins.

Jareth had been a favorite for several kingships, however, he chose to rule the creatures which he found the most fun. He chose to rule the Goblin Kingdom, much to the general excitement and support of those strange little creatures. Jareth was fun, mischievous, and very young. It was deemed a perfect fit. It was the day he went off to that far off realm that was the last time Lady Morgaine saw her beloved son.

Until this day.

The cry had shaken the very earth, coming from that far off kingdom. It was so intense, so pained that it caused a lament to be begun across the land. Many feared that the gods were turning against them, however Lady Morgaine, a wise woman and witch, told them it was simply her son's pain. They had nothing to fear.

She, however, was deeply troubled. Her son, while spoiled as a child and prone to temper tantrums and little thunder fits, had never expressed this deep grief, this manner of pain. Also, taking the responsibilities of the Goblin King when the former king had finally passed on had mellowed the boy she remembered.

Since the child was born, she'd always had a deep connection to him, her youngest son, more so than even among her other children. He was a spirit twin, incredibly similar to herself. Often they could feel the other's distress, and he'd arrived shortly after his father had died to comfort her. There had been rumors following that, insinuations that she would have liked to take her own son as her husband now that she was free of the man.

She cared not about the rumors. People would do as they always had and say what they thought, true or not. He was, after all, a lovely man and in her own mind, should have been married twice over and have a brood of his own children kicking goblins around the castle. Yet time passed, and while he never lacked for company in his bed, he'd held back on choosing a permanent mate. No woman had ever caused such emotional distress.

Yet, that very evening, waves began rolling over her from the Goblin Kingdom. Emotional turmoil, bright hope churned with confusion. Eventually they became a powerful emotion she could not identify. It drew her from her work to stare across the realm in the direction of her son's realm. Then, thirteen hours later, a tidal wave of hurt and pain crested and fear gripped her suddenly.

She'd called her palanquin to take her to the Goblin Kingdom immediately. The ride was filled with fear and worry, because after that first huge wave, many more had followed. It would be her first visit to the kingdom in her considerably long life. She hated the disgusting little creatures, always had. It was the one point she and her son disagreed upon, as he was unfortunately very empathic with them. He'd willingly given up several offers at courts closer to her side to take the place of the former king.

Upon arrival, she found her son slumped in his odd throne, a bottle of expensive scotch whiskey dangling from his hand, looking like he was dying from a slow bleeding soul wound. Her best guess said he was more than half-way through that bottle when she'd arrived, kicking his goblin servants out of her way in her haste to reach  
her son's side.

Gently, she eased him up, guiding him to his bedroom, laying him upon his bed and sitting at his bedside, stroking his downy soft hair. He'd not spoken as she did, just laying there, looking lost and miserable. He still clutched the bottle of whiskey, periodically taking long drinks from it. It was obvious her presence was not soothing him.

“Jareth, my dear son, tell me what has happened,” she asked softy, gently combing his fine strands of platinum hair with her gloved fingers. Her boy did not respond, simply looking away. “It is not like you to be so despondent. Where is my dear boy who laughs and plays with his goblins? Where is my son who glued his nanny to her chair? What has happened to my happy, carefree, devil-may care little rascal?”

Finally, he rolled off the bed, moving away from her. He stood before the great window in his room, hands clasped at his back, not facing her. It was a position she'd often seen his father stand in while thinking. After a long moment, he spoke. “I have med a girl this very evening, with hair like mahogany silk and eyes of green fire.” His voice remained low and quiet as he spoke.

She blinked, surprise whipping through her. Pain caused by a woman? This should be excellent news, he should not be grieving the meeting of a girl. “That is lovely my son. Which clan does she hail from?”

He was silent for a long moment, his lips in a deep frown. “She does not hail from a clan, mother,” he said quietly.

Displeasure rippled through her. If she was not from a clan...”A commoner?” She couldn't hide the distaste in her voice.

His voice became cross, almost threatening. “There's nothing common about her,” he said, his voice actually cold. Her eyes widened in surprise at the obvious defense of this girl. He glanced back at her, then returned that mis-matched gaze to the scenery beyond the window. “She was mortal. A runner...” His voice had dropped back to that quiet tone he'd used before.

Ah, perhaps he was saddened because the girl would have become a goblin. “Oh, my dear boy. Which goblin did she become? Might I meet her?” She tried to be sympathetic.

His hands fisted and he began pacing across the room restlessly. His face was a mask of calm, but his eyes were dark with pain. “She did not become a goblin.” His lips became a grim line and he paced away from her, his hands still clenched into fists behind his back. “She conquered the Labyrinth. She...bested me.”

Ah, now we're getting closer to the heart of the problem, Morgaine thought, dusting off her skirt as she stood, moving towards where he'd stopped near a book shelf. Her dear son's intense pride had been wounded. “It was bound to happen eventually, you had to know that. Before you were allowed to take this office, you had to conquer it yourself. Now, while it's a surprise that a mortal child would have the ability to do so in the required thirteen hours, there was always a chance it would happen.” She saw shadows behind his eyes and set her hand comfortingly upon his shoulder.

He brushed her hand away. “You do not understand!” He snapped. “The boy...that boy was my heir, I've already named him so. And she...” His voice broke off as he began pacing. “She was defiant and stubborn and willful. She refused to give in, she fought into me with every breath she took. I gave her an enchanted peach-”

“Faerie food,” she explained. “Jareth-”

“I pulled her into a dream, her dream pulled me in as well. A crystal ballroom, sensual and debauched, and she was innocent in a sugar spun dress.” His frustrated movements stilled and he stood, staring into nothing. “Her eyes are so cruel. Beautiful, defiant, innocent green eyes...Those eyes make me want like I've never wanted anything else.” He put a hand to up to hide his eyes.

“It was only a means to distract her until her time was gone. I took the opportunity to spell bind her, another moment and she would have been mine. She broke away from me, broke free. That dream which should have sealed her memories was broken and within an unheard of amount of time, she remembered everything. She was in time to make it to the castle, nearly had the child.”

Morgaine watched his face twist with pain and he looked away. “Oh, Jareth...” She whispered.

“I offered her everything I had to offer. I...wanted her for myself. In those short hours, with a handful of face to face encounters, and no physical contact, I fell in love with her. And she...” His hand tightened against his temples and she saw anger, frustration, and that intense pain in his eyes. “She said I have no power over her.”

Morgaine felt intense fury rip through her. It had a calming effect. It gave her the ability to think, to see, without her worry for her son blinding her. “What...is her name?”

He lifted the bottle to his lips, hesitating at her question. The bottle slowly dropped away and he set it on the vanity table. He turned the bottle, staring down into the warm, amber liquid. “Sarah,” he said quietly. “Her name was Sarah...” He lifted his gaze, then lowered his gaze once again. “If you would not mind, mother, I would like some privacy. I do not enjoy licking my wounds in the presence of others...”

“Of course, Jareth.” She walked towards the door, her expression unreadable. She'd had thousands of years to learn how to hide her emotions. It was a skill she'd perfected. Silently, she closed the door behind her, still feeling the pain rolling over her, but dull, more muted. She walked briskly towards the queen's suites, rooms she'd knew were usually kept for her during her visits, but as she reached for the door, she felt a repulsion spell and her jaw sagged.

A goblin peeked around a pillar at her. “Kinga said you could stay in the guest suite, it's already made up for you. Queenie suites in...bad shape.”

She gestured for the creature to come down. “Very well. You may guide me.”

It gave her a look of annoyance, but did as she requested. She opened the door, finding it was admirably furnished, but not near as lush as she knew the queen's suites were. They were the largest suite in the building after her son's, and he'd always said she was free to use them. This was all that mortal chit's fault. Her son's pain and no doubt, the mess in the queen's suite.

How could he...offer himself to such a creature. Ugh, it was disgusting. She'd tried not to show her revulsion that her beautiful son had offered to mate and bond with a mortal. With a scowl, she called a mirror and stared into it. “Show me this...Sarah.” She commanded.

A beautiful girl sat against a tree in an unnamed park, a babe in her lap. The babe had blond hair and, to her surprise, Jareth's eyes. “I see what you see in the boy, my son. He looks as you did when you were a tyke. But this...mortal wench...” She skimmed over the girl. She supposed she was lovely, but even among mortals, there'd been lovelier creatures.

The girl swept her hair over her ear, speaking softly into the boy's ear. She held a red leather bound book in her hands, obviously reading the boy a story. After a moment she paused and reached up, brushing a tear from her eyes, setting the book aside and tightening her arms around the boy.

Then, as if she knew she were being watched, her head turned and she looked directly at her.

Morgaine cried out, shocked and dropped the mirror, which shattered upon the floor. She stared down at the broken glass, seeing only her reflection. Those eyes...were terrible. Green, cat-like things, full of defiance and innocence. That girl looked too knowing. Morgaine hated those eyes.

She waved a hand, healing the broken mirror and it reappeared in her hand, complete once again. “Mordred!” She called, angered. The man's face shimmered upon the glass and she stared down upon her nephew. “I am in need of a favor...” Her voice was cold and impersonal. “I want you to go to the Above and locate a girl by the name of Sarah with brown hair and green eyes. Find her...and give her this...” She displayed a crystal before the mirror and dropped it through the glass. “I don't care how you must do it, but see to it that she touches that crystal.”

The man took the crystal, and pressed his opposite fist against his chest. “It will be done, Lady Morgaine.” He said with the quiet calm that had always been his way. The mirror flickered and then went dark as the connection severed.

Morgaine sat upon a comfortable seat, staring out the window over the Labyrinth. Her expression quickly turned dark. This mortal girl thought she was permitted to spurn the affection of her son? She would teach the irritating little wench a thing or two. Upon that crystal, she'd placed a curse. It would steal her memory, it would steal her hateful eyes and when the curse realized there was no love inside the girl's heart, the heart would die. It would be a slow, painful death for the girl, and she would regret ever rejecting the lord of the Labyrinth.

She would make the wench pay for causing her son such pain.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been six years since the girl had wished her brother away, turning his world upside down. In those years, he had learned the truest definition of loneliness. He was surrounded by goblins who feared him, loved him, and did as he said, but now it meant absolutely nothing.

He had found there was no one to share his life with. His mother came to visit far more often than she had prior to the events of that evening, but he often found himself sequestered in his room or office or even the library. He knew his mother could feel his lingering discontent with his life. She would bring ladies with her during these visits, encouraging him to have affairs with them.

She didn't understand why they had no allure for him. These blonds and red-heads with their blue eyes, the most common eye color in the Underground meant nothing. These women twittered, lusted, wanted him. These women didn't have that defiance that made Sarah so appealing.

His mother did not know that he would often take on his owl form and fly to the Above, where he would sit outside her window, watching her brush her hair, talk to her friends, or read her brother a story. His mother didn't know that he often called in crystals when he was alone to stare at her face as she studied or slept. She didn't realize that the love he'd felt for her had never faded.

For the first year, Jareth had restrained himself. He hadn't looked in on her, telling himself she'd left him, said those words, making it impossible for him to do so. Then, on the anniversary of their meeting, he'd sat in his room, wondering how she was, if she'd found boys in her world who would give her everything she'd wanted, and before he'd realized what he'd done, he was staring into a crystal, at her face.

After that, he could not stop himself. Scarcely a day when by when he did not look upon her in the crystal. He watched her grow from a girl into a young woman, watched her brother turn from toddler to child. He watched childish tastes grow more sophisticated, watched her try relationship after relationship, all of them failing for reasons no one in her life there seemed to fathom.

He almost pitied the lads she attempted these romantic endeavors with. After all, if he, the immortal Goblin King, could not live up to the expectations of a mortal girl, how could these human boys hope to keep up with them? Jareth did notice – to his delight – that the girl seemed to pick these young men when they showed something in common with him. Several had a love of leather clothing, some bad-boys. To his curiosity, however, she also seemed to have a thing for the knights in shining armor. 

However, none of these young mortals ever seemed to be able to withstand the nearly constant change of what she needed of them. The knights didn't have the dark edge that she longed for from the bad-boys, the flip-side being the darker ones didn't have the ability to occasionally be kind or chivalrous.

It pleased him, not due to his sometimes sadistic nature, but because it came as a relief that she'd never found what she'd wanted in her own realm. It had long been his belief and hope that someday she would willingly come back to him, back to the man who well and truly loved her and would have exhausted himself time and again in an attempt to live up to her steep expectations.

However, time continued to pass, and she never did as he expected. She moved from her grade school years into her advanced educations, attacking everything with the defiance and determination he'd always loved. Those green eyes always glittered with the fire of life as she dove into everything time and again.

Every day, she'd take her brother to the park, set him on her lap and read to him from various story books, sometimes growing so emotional at the tale she told that she'd shed a tear or two. The boy always would cup her face those times and kiss her cheeks, and the tears. Jareth knew from his continued viewing of them, the boy saw himself as her little prince.

Sometimes, while he was watching them, one or the other would feel his gaze and would glance into the direction of his owl form, or even would meet his gaze through the crystal. Those times always caused his heart to pound in excitement. Sarah's especially. When she caught him, she'd get a thoughtful expression on her face and a mysterious smile would turn up her lips.

Today was such a day.

She'd taken Toby to the park, along with a large story book which was tucked into her shoulder bag, and when he'd noticed her heading out, he took to his avian form, leaving the castle and flying to the above, perching in the tree she'd always sit under.

It wasn't long before Sarah and Toby arrived, getting snug under the tree, Sarah holding the book before her brother. “What story shall we share today, my good man?” She asked quietly. He knew well enough that she started all of their little sessions like so. “What do you want to hear?”

“Will you tell me one of the goblin stories again, Sarah?” The boy asked, looking enthusiastic at the prospect.

Had he been in his other form, his eyebrow would have jumped clear into his hairline at that question. Sarah was teaching Toby about the goblins? He wanted to smile, but having the face of an owl was not suited to such an expression.

“I suppose I could share with you a story of the goblins.” She flipped to a page and smiled. “How about...I tell you how Gibbergeist defeated Borgis Kahn.”

Jareth was settling to listen when a throb began at his temples. A summoning. Blasted rotten timing. He gave the pair a longing gaze for a moment before he took off out of the tree, the branch rustling loudly. Both woman and child jumped, startled, and he felt a piercing gaze upon him as he flew away. He would look in on her later, after he'd dealt with all of this.

He followed the summons, finding his mother at the entrance to his castle, two women behind her. He swore viciously. He'd been pulled away from Sarah for this?!

He did a controlled dive to the ground, changing form as he landed, his black cloak swirling over his black silk shirt and wool breeches. “Mother, while I appreciate these visits, it would be equally appreciated if I received some manner of notification of your imminent arrival besides a sudden summons. They rather give me a headache.”

He saw the surprise on his mother's face and felt a tad guilty at the distress she displayed. With a sigh, he took his mother's hands and kissed each. “Forgive me, mother. I am feeling a tad cross at the moment. Come in and be welcome.” He said graciously. With a wave of his hand, the large doors to his castle opened and he offered his mother his arm.

The older woman took it, smiling graciously. “Jareth, these are Ladies Alura and Elvina, my companions for this visit...” He felt her giving him an appraising look and gave the other ladies an unimpressed once over.

They were both lovely creatures, to be sure. Alura had luscious strawberry blond curls and turquoise blue eyes under thick brown lashes. Her complexion was smooth, without flaw, typical fair skin from the Underground. Undoubtedly, she remained indoors whenever possible to avoid burning, much as other ladies of this realm chose to do. She was dressed in a lovely gown of emerald silk damask, and he could see her feet contained in delicate slippers of the same fabric. He could tell from looking at her she fully expected to dazzle him, even as she lowered her eyes in a curtsy before peering up at him through the veil of her lashes.

Elvina, on the other hand, had a stronger, more distinct face and bone structure. Her eyes were golden brown under her ink black lashes, and she had a wealth of straight black hair. She didn't bother with more than a simple curtsy before she lowered her gaze, not attempting to flirt, but trying to escape notice. She was dressed in a somber dress of navy blue, which did little to flatter her or her features. It was too delicate for her obvious strength.

Jareth looked towards his mother, seeing obvious hope in her eyes. He ground his teeth together. Her choice for him was obvious. It was equally obvious that Elvina had been brought along to make Alura more appealing. “A pleasure to meet you both.” He said, keeping his voice even, not revealing any of the annoyance he presently felt with his mother. “I will see that suites near my mothers are opened and cleaned up for the two of you.” He led his mother inside the castle, and into a drawing room. “Wait here for a moment, I was enjoying an afternoon flight and require a change into something more comfortable...”

He left the women in the room alone and stalked off to his own room, taking the long walk to calm himself. He had grown accustomed to his mother's attempt at match-making, but he didn't like it. Being accosted in his chambers several times during her week-long stays was hardly his idea of a good time. His chambers were private, his sanctuary away from woman and goblin. Over the past six years, he'd barred and locked everyone who was a part of his life from that room. Including his mother.

Once she'd come in to wake him and he'd lashed out with his fury and it had taken several hours for either of them to calm down. He'd sat her down and had a much needed talk with her about his privacy. She'd dared not enter since then.

With an aggravated sigh, he shoved open his door, slamming it behind him and putting a sealing spell over the whole of the room. He tossed the heavy mantle onto his large bed, which was covered in bedding of dark blues and golds. He threw open his wardrobe and pulled the silk shirt over his head, tossing it away from him. He stared into the depths and pulled out a wine red shirt of heavy velvet, one of the less...open shirts he owned, followed by a black leather vest, pulling the laces tight. The small black wrist length gloves he'd worn earlier would be fine.

He glanced at himself in the mirror before stepping out. He was unsurprised to find his mother standing waiting in the hall. “Was it too much to ask you to wait in the drawing room with your companions?”

“My dear boy, you have been spurning the advances of every girl to set foot in this castle for years. When was the last time you took sexual relief from one of them? They'd be more than happy to accommodate a king!” Her voice was low and fiercely frustrated.

He straightened his vest, then lifted his gaze to look at the woman. “You want me to bed woman I care nothing for simply for physical relief? Trust in this, mother, they would relieve nothing. All they are looking at this as is a shoe in opportunity to become queen. With the possible exception of poor Elvina. Did you chose her because she was Alura's opposite? Really, woman, do you even consider the feelings of your poor companions?”

Morgaine looked startled, hurt. “I've only your own welfare in mind! Ever since...that night, you've been a shade of yourself! What has happened to you?! Forget about the stupid mortal girl! She will eventually die and leave you alone, regardless!”

He stiffened, turning towards her. “My lady, you forget yourself.” He said coolly. It took several minutes before he managed to regain his calm. “Come along, mother. My other guests no doubt await.” He offered his arm in a gentlemanly manner, leading the older woman back to the drawing room. Before he himself entered, he took a soothing breath, hoping that he would have a moment alone tonight to gaze upon Sarah's face and cleanse him of the presence of these women before him now.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Morgaine paced her bedroom that evening, angered and frustrated by her son's actions and words that day. While not uncommon to make a permanent mate, it was unheard of among their ilk to remain celibate in waiting for a woman who may never turn to look their way. There was only one real explanation for something like this.

That mortal wretch must have bewitched her son.

Her maroon dressing robe moved around her with the wind she kicked up from her movements. With an angry flourish, she called in her mirror, and peered upon the surface. “Show me the girl.” She snapped once again, peering at the surface of the mirror with undisguised malevolence.

The face she saw was not that of a girl any longer. Now, in her place, a young woman sat at a desk, writing in a large book, a faint smile around her lips. She looked up, and her lips moved as if answering a call. A moment later, a little blond boy ran up to her, throwing his arms around her neck and hugging her tightly. The girl laughingly tickled the boy, and pointed at the book.

They spoke for several more moments, before the boy went oddly still and then blue eyes looked at her, a piercing gaze coming through the mirror. She gasped in shock and cut off the communication.

The girl was still not cursed! In her rage, she threw a hard heavy object near her hand at the vanity mirror, which shattered upon contact. She paced faster, trying to calm herself before shouting a name at the mirror once again. “Mordred!”

The face appeared in her mirror less than a moment later, and she scarcely recognized her nephew. He looked weary beyond belief. She felt her anger fade, and clung to it for another moment. “What is the hold up, boy?! This curse should have long since taken it's course! How is the King supposed to move on if he can't forget about a stupid little mortal chit?!”

Mordred scowled up at her. “Lady Morgaine? While Sarah may be a rather uncommon name in the Underground, it is unfortunately and decidedly not uncommon here! Every two sodding families has a child by the name of Sarah, more than half of them have brown hair! Unless you can narrow down this a tad more than brown hair and green eyes, I'm afraid it could take a great deal longer!”

The woman scowled and huffed. It appeared she was going to have to pump her son for further information regarding the girl. That was fine. She would do what it took to have this little mortal problem dealt with.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Sarah Williams had always loved the park. She knew there were several parts of the woods surrounding the lush area which housed owls among other creatures. It had long since been a place of peace and solace. She'd brought her brother here, teaching him an appreciation for the quiet nature of the area, would settle down beneath the trees and tell him every story he knew, again and again, ingraining this knowledge into him.

Those stories, some from her own imagination, others told to her originally by her friends from the Underground, all recorded in a large storybook she'd purchased to record her own journey through the Labyrinth in. Over time, she'd filled the pages, six years worth of tales for her to pass on to her brother or the next generation of Williams.

Now and then, sitting in the park reading from that book, she'd feel as though she were being watched. Sometimes, she couldn't see who it was. Other times, she'd find a barn owl among the branches of a nearby tree, sitting and watching, listening to her tell the boy a story. It had always struck her as odd, since owls were primarily nocturnal creatures.

In her mind, she pretended that it was someone from some time ago who also took the form of such an animal. She pretended he was coming down to look upon her with the same longing she felt to see him once more. It was an unspoken desire. Some nights, she'd sit before her mirror from which her friends came to visit her, and she'd feel his name rise to her lips, waiting for the faintest utterance. She'd fantasize that she would hear his wings flutter against the window and the pane would open, and he'd look upon her as he had in her ballroom dream.

His song had been stuck in her head since he'd sung the words to her, staring down into her eyes. She could remember where his nearness had warmed her, how her palms had sweat.

She had never, in her life, been so captivated by another man. Every time she attempted a relationship, she'd prayed that she would find the one who could help her move past the memories of the man she'd discovered too late she had fallen in love with.

When she was a girl, her mother had once told her that when you're in love no one else will fill the void created when that person left. Her mother had run off with Jeremy shortly afterwards, and Sarah learned several years later that they'd been high school sweethearts, until he'd moved away at sixteen. Her mother had never gotten over him, and now they lived happily with a child of their own.

While it still hurt, Sarah knew it was in her best interests that her mother had left her with Robert. Neither of them truly understood her, but had she not gone to live there, she would have been the same spoiled mess she had been when she wished Toby away. After all, Karen had bought the book for her, an attempt at a peace offering, a hand reaching towards her. That book had triggered her adventure through the Labyrinth and all the growth which resulted from it.

Today, Sarah was in the park by herself, while Toby was away at school. She'd gotten a job working at a bookstore, working the later hours, which gave her loads of time to herself and time to spend with Toby. During those off hours, she often took long meandering walks in the park, wondering what would have happened had she taken that final offer. While it was undoubtedly just a ruse to make her forget her brother, to distract her from her mission, she still liked pretending that the Goblin King had actually meant those words.

It had hurt to refuse him, especially now. He was everything she could ever dream to want, the embodiment of a dark knight, both bad-boy and prince charming. She'd wanted nothing more than to take that offer. The offer of himself. She knew that she did not truly wish for him to be her slave, just his love would have been enough. Just the barest scraps of affection.

As she walked through the park, she saw a small crowd of people gathered around a man with dark hair pulled back in a tidy manner. She glanced in that direction and stood transfixed. He wore leather gloves and was flipping crystals around along his hands, entertaining women and children alike. Her feet began drawing her towards the crowd and she stood on the outside edge, watching those crystals dance.

Contact juggling had fascinated her since she'd first seen it, however, she'd never seen someone move with the dexterous grace Jareth had possessed. This however, was startlingly close. She lost herself in the movements, watching those crystals slide over leather, feeling tears coming to her eyes.

Discretely, she reached up, dashing those tears away. Smiling sadly, she continued watching until finally the crowd started to disperse, leaving spare change in the man's coffee can. She dug through her purse, searching for something with which to make a donation.

“My Lady, why ever are you crying?”

The voice was smooth, soft, with the same inflection of the Goblin King. She laughed, feeling a little shaky. “Oh, it's nothing. Someone...I liked used to do that.” She explained away. There was no way she could explain the Goblin King to some mortal who took up contact juggling as a way to put bread on the table.

When she looked up, to offer him some money, she found him examining her closely. She fought the urge to back away a step, dropping the money in the can.

“Would you mind terribly if I asked you keep me company while I put these away?” He asked, that eerily familiar voice perplexed.

“Ah...no, not at all.”

He began setting the crystals in a box. The box looked very old, and she thought it belonged in one of her stories. She smiled, dropping to her knees. “This box is fantastic...” She said quietly. “Where did you get it?”

He looked towards her, surprised. “Oh...The crystals and box belonged to my father. He was from a family of magicians, but I don't have as much of the gift as my cousin.” He smiled faintly, offering his hand. “My name is Mordred.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Unusual name.”

He chuckled faintly. “My family favors Arthurian mythology.” He said vaguely.

Interest sharpened inside her. “I'd bet you know some fantastic stories. I'm something of a collector of them.” She shook his hand, smiling brightly. “I'm Sarah.”

His eyes widened and he looked surprised for a moment, but he recovered quickly enough. “I see.” He lowered his head, looking uncomfortable for a long moment. He hurried along, putting his crystals away. One rolled out of the box in his haste and She reached for it, picking it up and offering it to him, eyes wide and innocent.

“Thank you.” His eyes were wide with horror as he took it back. He stuffed the crystal into the box and straightened, moving away from her, bringing the box with him. “Oh, child, I am so sorry.” He said, and then disappeared in a whirl of smoke and glitter.

Sarah felt her stomach drop out and she looked in worry down at her hand. Hugging herself, she stood in the park for a long moment, before she swore and broke into a mad dash to get home, to her mirror, and to someone who might be able to tell her what exactly just happened.

As she ran, she saw the world around her blurring, felt a pain growing in her temple. Her mind was ripping through the possibilities. The man disappeared much like Jareth often had during her time knowing him. Just glitter poofed right out of the park. Did that mean that Jareth had sent him with the crystal to harm her? Her world was going dark frighteningly fast. She was fortunate to reach her front door when there was still a pinhole of vision left.

She fumbled with her keys, checking their heft and shape to find the house key and she burst in, clamming the door shut behind her. She heard Karen call out, but was too worried about what was wrong with her to answer. She hurried up the stairs as fast as she dared, clinging to the railing so that she'd have something to hold onto while she moved.

Once at the top of the stairs, she felt along the wall for her room. The first door on the right was a broom closet, he second, a bathroom. Finally, her hand came in contact with her bedroom door and she threw it open, dashing inside and locking the door against intruders. She rushed towards the mirror, and blinked.

What was she doing?

She forced herself to think, tried to remember why she was in such a hurry, but nothing came to mind. She sank down into her chair, and felt her breaths growing ragged. “H...H...Hogwart?” She whispered.

“It's Hoggle.” Came a testy voice. “As well ya know, Sarah.”

She turned towards the voice, reaching towards it. “Hoggle...Hoggle...” She tried to put the name with a memory, but nothing came to her. “Oh, dammit, what's wrong with me?!” She cried, dropping her head to her desk.

Two leathery hands turned her face up and she heard a startled gasp. “Oh Sarah, what's been done to ya?” The voice asked, sounding worried and frightened. “Your eyes, they've gone milky white!”

“I can't see!” She whispered. “I...can't see...I don't understand what's happening. Who...who are you?”

There was a long silence before those leather hands gripped her almost painfully tight. There was a moan of worry and she felt him ply open her right hand. “Oh, no...Oh, Sarah...” The person hugged her tightly and then released her. “I'll go find out what's happened. You...just rest. And be careful!”

She nodded, touched by the concern of this creature. “Alright.”

Suddenly, she was alone again and she sat there, staring with unseeing eyes into her bedroom mirror, wondering what on earth was happening to her.


	3. Chapter 3

Why weren't they gone yet?

Jareth sat in the formal drawing room with his mother and her companions, sipping tea he didn't want while they nibbled upon food and chittered and chattered about things he didn't give a flying fig about. Several times his mother had dropped not particularly subtle hints that he should take one of these lovely ladies to his bed as a thank you for their company.

As if he had any intention of letting one of these creatures setting foot within his room. He didn't bother telling these fools what he'd done to the last woman who had tried to get into his bed, much less the queen's suites.

It had been near a year ago and he'd come back from a long flight, watching Sarah dance with her brother in that park she favored, his heart cleansed of the presence of so much of the taint the others in the Underground brought into his home. He'd opened his door and immediately his teeth were put on edge. His room reeked of female musk, and he found the woman lounging upon his bed in what he knew she must think to be an alluring manner.

He'd strode towards her and she gave him a look of veiled invitation and he'd snapped. He'd gripped her arm, feeling his magic already fighting against his tight control as he drug her from the bed, using that surplus of power to heave her out of his doorway with as much speed as he could. The sheets upon his bed followed, and the large mattress followed that, hitting her and pinning her screaming form against the wall.

“Jareth, I must be on my way tonight.”

His mother's voice drew his attention back and he fitted the woman with a piercing gaze. “I see.” Mentally, he did a happy dance, since his mother's oppressive, pushy atmosphere had been causing upset among his goblins and that was nothing compared to what it was doing to him. Lately, whenever the woman arrived, he wanted to go into hiding. Or give up his kingship. Really anything would do.

“Would you mind entertaining Alura and Elvina for a few days-”

“I most certainly would.” He said, his voice turning cool. “I have a kingdom to run, and I was to inform you this eve that I must go back to my duties. Being a royal doesn't mean simply sitting upon a throne and looking good.” He saw hurt on his mother's face and felt the faintest twinge of guilt.

“That's a pity. I suppose they will have to come with me, then.” She looked away from him, her back straight, that pride which would likely be the downfall of this family showing with her every mood.

“I do hope you have an easy journey.” He said softly, hoping to mollify her without being forced to have the chittering twit and the fearful young woman in his castle longer.

The woman turned towards him and gave a small, faint smile, resting her hand upon his own. “Well, you heard the king, ladies. We must go oversee preparations for our departure.” She stood, dusting off her skirts. The younger ladies left, Alura flouncing out in a sulky manner, Elvina looking markedly relieved. Morgaine, however, turned towards him, her expression bright with concern. “Why must you be so stubborn, son? You're still in your prime and yet you're so alone. You push every one away, hide every night in that room. That wretched girl that hurt you is not coming back. The sooner you accept that-”

He lifted a hand for silence. “Mother, I will not marry someone who is merely looking to improve her title. Elvina was terrified of being in the same room as I, and Alura is so wrapped up in herself she cannot tell I wanted to choke her every time she spoke. You keep bringing me these women, always extremes. Terrified of me or so foolish they can't be afraid. There is a middle ground, I've met those with it before.”

“Like who, son? This Sarah who rejected you soundly in favor of a child?”

He flinched at the reminder. “Sarah...was still a child herself.” He looked up at the woman. “I've seen her grow into a lovely young woman, mature, caring, and so selfless. You cannot understand, mother. You and father cared for each other, but I don't think you have felt what I believe I am feeling. My soul calls for her.”

“And yet she does not answer!”

He stood, pacing towards the window. “You should go prepare to leave, mother.” He said, keeping his voice calm, despite the raging emotions within him. There was a long moment of silence, and then he heard footfalls leading her towards the exit.

“Think about what I said, Jareth. You could waste away before that girl ever came back. I...just want to see you happy.”

There was the sound of the door shut, and Jareth promptly put a muffling spell on the room and then let his rage go, the temper shattering crockery, sending priceless vases slamming against walls, lightening crackling along the curtains, walls, floor. Books tore themselves off of shelves, creating a chaotic ballet of violence around him.

He kept his temper restrained to that room, not lashing out at his subjects, or the foolish woman who had said such things to him. As if he did not know she wished he would settle with one of these little witches of the Underground who were more interested in his title than him. She wanted for him to take a wife of her ilk and start popping out little brats immediately.

Once upon a time there had been no one he was closer to than his mother, however, after the death of his father, she'd turned bitter and angry, taking on this 'mommy knows best' attitude that made him long to throttle her. It had come as a relief being so far away. Until six years ago when she'd showed up to comfort him after Sarah ran the Labyrinth. After that she'd come with increasing frequency until she was visiting nearly every month now. 

Slowly, the rage died, leaving in it's place that loneliness he'd always felt when he wasn't in the above, watching over his precious Sarah. He hated that his mother's words struck so close to his heart wounds from that evening. It was always a deep fear that she would never again let him be a part of her life. He clung desperately to the hope that one day she might.

With an exhausted sigh, he scrubbed his face, falling back into his chair. He stretched out his legs, staring up at the ceiling. He felt raw, scrubbed out. He called in a crystal, preparing to look down upon Sarah's lovely face when he heard the doors to the castle slam open.

Wondering what manner of havoc was about to present itself upon his doorstep, he headed towards the door. Before he could touch it, it slammed open, a familiar dwarf storming in. “I don't care who he's entertaining!” His gardener snarled, not seeing him until he slammed into the legs of the Goblin King.

Jareth's brow jumped up his brow and he waved the goblin that was trailing behind him, looking petulant away. “Hogspill, what a surprise. To what do I owe the...pleasure.”

“It's Hoggle, you no good, dirty, cheating rat!” The dwarf fumed. He lifted his hands, shoving the Goblin King with an exceptional amount of force. The movement caused the king a great deal of surprise. Hoggle was, by nature, a cowardly creature, however he was prone to moments of intense bravery. Now must be one of those moments. “What 'ave ya done ta Sarah?!”

Concern shot straight to his heart, however he maintained a cool front before the dwarf. Of course it would involve the girl. She was the only one who could make half the creatures in his Labyrinth, himself included, lose their heads. “What are you talking about?” He asked, his voice edging towards disdain and mocking.

Hoggle shoved him again, managing to knock him into a chair. “You just couldn't stand that she beat you, so what?! You send a curse after the poor girl!? You know she was just trying to get her brother back, to right that wrong she done, but you just couldn't stand it!” Hoggle gripped the front of his vest and gave him a hard shake. “What 'ave ya done?!”

Curse? Jareth stood abruptly, resulting in the detaching of the dwarf from the front of his vest. “Hoggle, what the devil are you talking about? What curse?”

Hoggle examined him closely for a long moment. “I'm no fool, Jareth. You know well enough that I knows one when I see one. I just saw her two days ago and she was fine, but now her eyes 'ave gone all milky white and she can scarce remember who I am, much less my name!” He started pacing. “If it was just some trauma, she wouldn't even remember about the mirror. Seemed that she was trying to hold onto her memories like someone trying to hold water in a leaky bucket.”

Jareth frowned deeply, troubled by this information. “I have not set any curse upon Sarah Williams,” he promised quietly. “I would never have done such a thing to her. As you said...she was simply attempting to right a wrong...”

Hoggle didn't look convinced. “Then who would have cursed that girl?! You're the only one I know that had any reason to hold a grudge!”

Jareth sighed, massaging the back of his neck. “I may resent her for what she did, however trust in that I could never harm her. She declared I have no power over her. Even if I wished to cause her harm, which I never have, I could not.”

Hoggle's lip stiffened, a sure sign that the dwarf was restraining emotions. “What can I do for the little lady, then?” His voice sounded so hopeless. “She likely wont remember me if I go back and try to help her, now.”

Jareth set his jaw, staring out the window, watching his mother's belongings get loaded into a waiting carriage. “At the moment, I've no idea.” He said quietly. “I'll contact Morphia and see if she may not be able to do something.” He shook his head, gesturing vaguely.

“I don't like you, Jareth, you know that.” Hoggle's voice was restrained. “But I'd rather Sarah were with you. At least then I'd know the little lady was safe.”

Jareth closed his eyes and sighed, turning back towards the dwarf. “There are rules for bringing mortals into the Underground, Hoggle.” He saw surprise written upon his face upon speaking the appropriate name. “What do you propose I do? If her memories are slipping away as you say, how would I, someone she knows not, convince the girl to give up the life she has above and bring her hear?”

“I don't know.” The dwarf admitted.

Jareth nodded. “For now, I would have you glean whatever information you might be able about who might have cursed her. Not many in the Underground have the ability to curse those in the above, and almost always someone must traverse the veil between here and the mortal realm. Find out who has made such a trip recently and bring me this information.”

“What will you do?”

Jareth sighed heavily. “I will search for a loophole so that I might bring the lady here for temporary protection.” He waved a hand. “Go, you have your mission. Enlist the assistance of your brethren if you need to. I will do what must be done regarding Sarah.” He watched the dwarf nod shortly before he ambled away as swiftly as his short legs could carry him.

He would never tell the dwarf, but he could think of one person who may wish to cause Sarah great harm. It was someone the girl had never even met, would never know the reason behind the animosity.

However, Jareth wanted his theory confirmed before the Goblin King went off on the woman. This was sorely against the rules. Not even he, the one who had suffered most from the girl's careless words, had the right to seek retribution for the loss. It was a game. Doing this was rather like throwing a temper tantrum because one didn't succeed.

He'd outgrown temper tantrums years ago.

Although it was in blatant disregard for the rules binding the Goblin King, despite knowing where the curse had likely originated from, Jareth closed his eyes and decided that he would bide his time and wait.

First and most importantly, however, he had to find out how to get Sarah out of the Above and into the relative safety of his castle without horribly breaking one of the rules regarding bringing a mortal into the Underground. Swiftly, his feet carried him to his study and he locked the door behind himself. For awhile at least, he would be sequestered from the world.

Jareth leaned quietly against the door and prayed that Sarah would be okay for awhile.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Mordred was not a bad person. He, like many of his kind, was proud, selfish, and a bit arrogant, but unfortunately that had been bred into him. He was also a good father, a loving husband, and a overall kind sort of person.

It was misfortune of a great sort that put him in the debt of a Lady Morgaine, his aunt on his mother's side. He'd never truly liked the woman. She came across as the jealous sort, who would sooner slay a rival than fight fairly. Yet here he was, forced into the servitude of that woman, for fear she would take out her vengeance on one who barely had the strength to get through their daily lives.

It had been more than fifty years ago that his wife had taken ill with a severe case of consumption. While his kind was made seemingly immortal since they had fled the above and the persecution they faced, it was still possible, even easy, for them to come down with a human illness and perish. He was a well paid wizard, respected, and spent near all of his funds seeking a healer who could still the progress of the illness.

However, as time passed, it became obvious that there was no one.

She had consented to take visitors, had smiled and said it would be nice to see the family once more. Jareth had come from across the realm, knelt at her bedside and whispered something in her ear which had made her smile and spent several hours sitting and speaking to her in soft tones, going silent when she spoke so she wouldn't have to raise her voice.

Others in the family had come, often too rowdy to stay for long. Finally, as Mordred became aware that he would likely watch the sun set on his lovely wife's life, Morgaine appeared. She entered dressed in colors of blue and white and stopped before him instead of her.

“I can save her.” The woman said coldly. “However, a price must be paid, by either her or you.”

“What do you want, I will do anything!” He'd entreated.

There was pleasure upon her face. “Your services. Nothing more.” She walked towards the woman, pulled out a small glowing vial and placed it against the woman's lips. No one dared ask what the concoction was and Mordred could see that his wife was as desperate for a bit more time on this plane as he was for her to have it.

Once administered, the woman left, giving him a long look.

The next day, his beloved wife was better, was up and walking around, laughing with their children. Within a month, she was pregnant again, as her desire to participate in those activities renewed.

It was six months after that night that Morgaine first came to request his services. She appeared with a crystal in her palm, her face lit with fury. “You will give this to Lady Gloriana of the court of Nirgen.” She said evenly. “The crystal must touch her bare skin.

He did as he was told. A month later he received an invitation to the funeral of Lady Gloriana and he realized that crystal must have contained some form of curse. He was in tears when he arrived at Morgaine's step. “How could you?! I am not a hired killer! How could you knowingly use me to...”

Morgaine turned towards him, her eyes cool. “You said anything, Mordred. And do stop being such a baby.” Those eyes turned dark with humor. “Do you wish to sever our contract? There too is a price for that. Your wife's life was the gift. I can take it back.”

He, naturally, fled the woman. He returned to his wifes side and wept for the lives he was going to be told to take.

There had been many. Some courtiers, some commoners, some lovers who had spurned her. He suspected some where even rivals. He'd learned to turn off his heart, to pretend that he couldn't feel the taint spreading over his soul. It was a switch. At home, he was the happy father, but when Morgaine called him through a mirror and passed him a crystal, he turned off all of his feelings, trying to forget that he was not a killer by nature.

This mission in particular had left a bad taste in his mouth from the start. He didn't ask questions, he dared not. When she'd pushed in only days ago, he'd felt that twinge of rebellious irritation. However, she'd provided little in the way of information, and as he'd said, there were many with the name Sarah and brown hair in the Above.

However, when he'd stood in that park, juggling those crystals, he'd felt a gaze upon him and felt a strange pain wash over him. He'd looked up, finding a girl with brown hair and sparkling green eyes watching those crystals move over his hands. Tears were trickling down her face. As the crowd had begun to disperse, she'd wiped her cheeks and begun digging through her purse, presumably for some money.

They had shared few words, but upon learning her name was Sarah, his heart twisted painfully. This girl was sweet, pure, innocent. Why in the heavens would Morgaine wish to curse her? His hurry to leave, to pretend he hadn't had caused him to fumble that one damn crystal and it had rolled towards her over the grass. He could to little but watch as she lifted it with her bare hand and offer it to him.

Now, he sat at his wife's feet, his arms tightly around her waist as he sobbed into her knees. Maybe some would call him weak for exhibiting such emotions, much less in front of a woman, but this was the one person he trusted with his life. Her hands lightly caressed his pale hair as she whispered words in an ancient tongue to him, words of comfort, words of peace. His wife had little magical gift, but she could weave solace from words rarely spoken any longer.

To him, he always teased that this was her magic. It was like casting a simple spell, she'd speak words, and calm would travel from her into him. It was something he'd always loved about her.

“You've been troubled.” She said softly, stroking his hair gently. Her voice floated down to his ears and he sighed, resting his cheek upon her thigh. “It has been a very long time since I have seen you happy, darling.”

He wanted to tell her, however, he was not allowed. Morgaine had implied several times that if he told anyone the truth of their dealings, she would sever the thread of his beloveds life. “Would that I could tell you, darling-”

There was a pounding at the door and their oldest child, Ethan, rushed to open it. Mordred lifted his head, wiping his face and putting a glamor over his features to hide his show of emotion. He found himself faced with a dwarf, a fox-goblin, and a large troll in his doorway. The dwarf stepped forward.

“Mordred. Lady Ailith.”

His brow shot up. He knew this creature. It was Jareth's gardener at the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. “Hoggle?”

A short nod. “Sorry about the hour, but this couldn't wait.” The creature moved towards him, his face grim. “You been Above quite a bit lately, boy.”

Dread settled into the pit of his stomach. He glanced towards his wife and knew she sensed his unease. Gently he squeezed her hand. “Darling, could you take the children elsewhere?” She nodded, eyes bright with concern. He watched as she ushered the children out the door leading to the kitchen, likely to enlist their assistance in preparing dinner. Once she was gone, he sagged into the chair she'd sat upon. “Yes, I've been Above. I just returned this evening.”

Hoggle frowned deeply. “I know, and that's why I'm here. Late yesterday a girl in the Above received a curse. A girl by the name of Sarah.”

He closed his eyes, lowering his head. “So you know.”

“Why her? Of all the people in the Above, why our Sarah?!”

“Our...?” Mordred lifted his face, staring at the dwarf. “How do you...”

“She's the champion of the Labyrinth! In eleven hours she beat the thing! I've never seen that wretch Jareth give so much attention to a single runner!”

Suddenly, everything hit Mordred like load of bricks. “Oh, merciful darkness, what have I done...” He whispered. He suddenly understood why the woman wanted to curse the mortal girl. “It was an accident. I was going to abandon this endeavor she sent me on, I'd hoped that she would just let it go. I was juggling in the park, contemplating giving up in general and there was a girl who was watching me and crying. I spoke to her and learned her name to be Sarah. She was the one I was supposed to give the crystal to...and I started rushing to get away, and dropped the damn thing. She picked it up and gave it back.”

Hoggle frowned deeply. “Who is she?!”

“I can't say!” He cried in upset. “If I tell you...” His eyes darted towards the door his wife had left through. “My wife depends on my silence. Please do not force me to tell you. If you will look for someone riddled with jealousy and hate you'll find her regardless.”

The dwarf nodded, his face upset. “Very well. Jareth will be here to speak to you as well, no doubt soon. I suggest you tell him what is going on. He might be able to help.”

Mordred watched them leave, miserable. Why did this have to come back to the one cousin that he actually cared about?

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Father. Mother. Step-father. Step-mother. Brother. Sister. Names that went with faces she could not remember. Titles which at this point held little meaning. Words which should offer comfort offered none; hands which should be familiar were not.

It was like a living nightmare.

Two days ago, she'd been moved from one building to another. The bed which was now called hers was uncomfortable, plastic, with metal bars on either side. They'd called this place a hospital. She didn't know why she was in a hospital. She didn't know much beyond her name. They said she'd gone mysteriously blind, had been losing her memories for days before they moved her. They said they moved her to help her.

Now, however, her days were filled with pain. The 'doctors' ran experiments on her mind and body, again and again finding nothing wrong and moving on to other tests. The only time she felt a measure of peace was when the little boy who came to visit took her out to walk in the hospital garden. He would help her sit beneath a large tree, sit upon her lap and then begin to tell her stories.

Some struck a chord within herself, telling her they were more than mere stories. They caused a sharp pain in her heart which often made her cry. When asked why, she always answered the same: “I don't remember,” which often made her cry harder.

Sometimes, when she slept, she dreamed of running down a tunnel with a leathery hand in her grip, the clash of machinery coming up behind her. Others were dangling by a tree limb over something that smelled above and beyond the definition of 'foul'. The ones which came most often however, were of her dancing in an extravagant gown, in the arms of a man who stirred strange feelings in her heart.

The dreams where she danced always caused her to wake in tears.

Each night a different dream, which faded as she woke, disappearing into nothing more than mist.

Today they had again run that horrid battery of tests, and afterwards, the boy she was repeatedly told was her brother took her hand and led her out to the gardens. They walked in silence for a long time before the boy started speaking, with a wisdom that was far beyond his seven years. “I had a dream last night. A man spoke to me. He said...he knew what had to be done to bring you into his protection.” His hand touched her face gently and she knew he was looking at her.

She remained silent, uncertain what to say.

He was silent as well, but she could feel the weight of his gaze before his arms went around her neck and she felt his damp face press into her shoulder. “I wish you to be taken under the protection of the Goblin King.” He whispered softly.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

There was a sound like thunder overhead. Toby hugged his sister tightly even as he felt her disappearing. Tears continued to roll down his face. Within moments, she had vanished, leaving him standing there alone. He reached up, scrubbing the tears from his eyes as his lips firmed in a thin line. “You'd better take care of her.” He threatened softly.

He stood there for a few more moments before heading back into the hospital, ignoring the queries about where Sarah was. He simply buried his face into his father's shoulder and cried silent tears.


	4. Chapter 4

It was funny, how the first sound after near silence was always so incredibly loud.

That was the first thing Sarah noticed when the strange feeling of fluidity left her body. Wherever she'd appeared was loud. Incredibly loud. She was also getting jostled by small creatures, whom she assumed were singing some awful obscene song about chickens and socks and somethings that she was relatively certain were not something ladies were supposed to know about.

Slowly, that loud din grew quiet, and suddenly, she had the feeling of being crowded. Hands began tugging at her hair, her clothes. She pulled away, as the noise slowly grew with the whispers.

“The Sarah...”

“Labyrinth Champion...”

She tried to squirm away further, but just as she backed away, her hand slipped and she fell into a pit in the floor, landing hard on her back and wincing in pain.

“Must find King.”

“Lady returns!”

“Lady magicked something bad!”

Finally, that noise rose to near painful levels once again. She curled up on the floor, mentally wishing for the peace and quiet of the hospital gardens. Just as she tried to curl further into herself, a loud voice spoke out.

“Quiet! What the devil is all that noise?!”

As ordered, so it was. All she could hear in the room was the sound of boots on stone and her own ragged breaths. She remained curled up in the fetal position even as she felt the crowd back away from her. Those footsteps stopped right before her and she heard the faint rustle of fabric as whoever it was dropped down beside her.

She smelled the scent of leather and something spicy moments before fingers lightly brushed her hair from her face and she heard a sharp exhalation. “Sarah...” She kept her eyes squeezed shut, afraid to look in the direction of the man who leaned over her. She supposed it was a silly reaction, as she wouldn't be able to see him, even if she did open her eyes. Still, that scent wrapped tightly around her and she could feel the warmth of nearness as his hands took hers, helping her into a sitting position.

And that voice...It sounded like crushed velvet against skin felt. The man spoke her name as though he truly knew her. Like he might care for her. She didn't realize she'd opened her eyes until she heard a sharp intake of air and those leather wrapped fingers touched the skin at the corners of her eyes.

Flinching, she drew back, her eyes snapping shut protectively.

The voice came again. “You have nothing to fear, Sarah.” He said quietly.

Tears filled her eyes and she lifted her face to the voice. “Who are you?”

Chaos erupted around her, cries of upset, as well as rapidly moving bodies. Those hands fell away from her and she suddenly felt as though she were alone once again. She wasn't certain why, but the touch of this man gave her comfort, much as the oddly familiar touch of the boy who had called himself her brother. Without the support of those hands holding her up, she began to collapse again.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Funny how a girl could destroy your world in a fraction of a moment. Those three little words had left her mouth and the goblins started being even more chaotic. They could tell as well as he that she had been cursed rather viciously. Jareths hands had dropped from her face as the shock of the words settled into his heart. He nearly backed away a step, but the moment after he stopped touching her, the girl began to fall.

With a soft curse, he caught her, lifting her into his arms. “Quite, damn you all!” He snarled to the room around him. The near deafening noise quieted quickly. Once he had his demanded quiet, he returned his face to this girl. Her brown hair hung a bit wildly around her, those milk-white eyes looked up in his direction from a face that was pale and tired. She was dressed in a horrid gown with little ties down the front and side. Gently, he rested a hand upon her head, trying to get a feel for the depth of the spell.

On the surface, he could see the obvious. Loss of sight, loss of mind. That wasn't all, he could feel a subtle final layer wrapped around her, ticking like a time bomb. He jerked back when he finally understood that final layer. He didn't speak, for fear that his voice would crack. “My name, Lady Sarah, is Jareth. I am the king of the goblins, and you are here under my protection.”

“So then...you're not going to have me tossed into an oubliette or something?”

The candid remark had him looking down at her in surprise. “What makes you...” He cleared his throat and saw goblins looking up at her in as much shock. “What makes you think I have something like an oubliette?”

Those full lips turned down into a frown and her brow furrowed. “I...I'm not really sure.” She said after a moment, still looking quite puzzled.

Gently, he hugged her tighter for a moment, then turned towards the goblins. “I'm placing the lady in the chambers closest to mine. See to it that they are prepared.” Toothy smiles and knowing grins answered him as they bustled, moving off to prepare things for the lady.

He gently carried her through the halls, kicking laughing goblins from his way, seeing her brow furrowed as though she had a headache. “For now, my dear, I'm taking you to my study. You and I must have a little discussion before I may get you settled in.”

She seemed to nod, and he blinked in surprised when she turned her face into his shirt and...sniffed him. A faint grin turned up the corners of his lips. Pointing out that she was sniffing him as though he were a baking pie would likely embarrass the poor girl, which would do little good for progress. 

With a jerk of his head, the door to his study opened and he moved in, gently setting the girl upon a chair and crouching before her. Waving his hand vaguely, the door drifted shut, but he could hear the goblins gathering outside. “How much do you remember of your life? Anything at all?”

She seemed to withdraw, curling into a ball. “You're...not going to hurt me, are you? With the needles?”

He felt the blood drain from his face and took her hands gently. “No, darling, no. I would never cause you pain,” he promised. A sigh escaped him. “How much to you remember?” There was pain on her face, tears standing in her eyes.

“I'm sorry...” She shook her head. “I...There's nothing there. Even...when people tell me something, it starts to fade away. The boy...I can't even...” Tears filled her eyes and began falling down her face. “I can't even remember his name now...I just saw him, I know I did, but...I can't...”

It hurt to see her like that. “What a number that woman did on you...” He brushed the tears away. “Come, now. None of this. You're not so weak that a little set back like this would make you cry.” She gave something of a watery giggle.

“You're...nicer than the doctors.”

“Yes, well, I've got a great deal more personal interest in you than these doctors.” He saw a perplexed expression on her face and inclined his head. “What are you thinking?”

“You sound...nice. Your voice, I mean.” She lowered her head, frowning a bit. “It's...like sitting with the boy. Like a memory I can't quite...” Her hands lifted towards his face.

His breath caught and he raised his own as well, guiding those trembling digits. Her first touch was butterfly soft on his cheekbones, smoothing down to his jawbone, sliding forward to his chin. She pulled away for just a moment, replacing her hands on his forehead, smoothing over his brows, her own shooting up into her hairline when she felt their upward slop. Her thumbs lightly stroked over his eyes, playing a curious amount of attention to the outside corners, where he knew they sloped upwards. Her fingers trailed over his nose and finally, with a brief hesitation, over his lips.

His already tenuous control nearly snapped at the feel of her curious fingers sliding over his lips. His breath raggedly escaped his lungs and he caught her hands gently pulling them away. “What are you doing?”

She inclined her head in confusion. “Obviously, I'm looking at you.” She dropped her hands, seeming to stare at her lap. “My eyes...don't work. No one knows why. My...father said that one day they just turned milky, like there was a strange film over them.”

She said father as though the word had little meaning to her, as if she didn't understand the relationship that the world implied. He scrubbed his face, sighing softly. “It's fine, Sarah. I understand, you needn't explain. I even know why this happened.” Those milky eyes lifted to him.

“You do?”

He sat back on his heals. “Yes, precious, I do. You've been cursed, and from the feel of it, I know where it originated.” A hand rubbed the back of his neck beneath his hair and he could feel a knot of tension forming. A moment of silence went by and he glanced up, finding a slight frown on her face.

“Then...there's nothing wrong with me? In my head?”

“Is that what the doctors said?”

She nodded. “They think I'm doing this to myself, since they can't find...”

He swore viciously. She shrank back from him and he grabbed her wrists. He took a long moment to calm the urge to swear and rage, something that would likely only frighten the girl. “Those men from your world are fools.” He said quietly. “I am glad that I was able to get through to your brother before they did irreparable harm to you.”

She looked at him, confused. “I have a brother?”

He sighed, brushing her hair back. “The boy. Toby.” He was pleased when her brow furrowed as though she recognized the name. After a moment, it died. “We will discuss him in more detail later, my dear. For now, I must explain somethings to you.” He released her hands, taking to pacing the floor. “There are many rules regarding bringing a mortal into the Underground.”

“The Underground?”

That brow furrowed as if she recognized that as well. His heart pounded. “Yes, the realm which is my home. In years past, it was not uncommon for those here to go into the above to seek an...exotic slave, if you will. Slavery has been outlawed for several centuries, however, it is only obeyed due to several laws which heavily regulate mortals such as yourself being here.”

She grew pale, shrinking back.

“Your brother wished you under my protection, which should cover most issues. However, I will be required to bring you before the courts of Avalon to prove you are not being mistreated or abused in any fashion during your time here. I also intend to put in for a full inquiry regarding what has befallen you,” he said, turning towards her.

She nodded. “I see.”

He smiled in fond exasperation. “No, my dear, you don't. Would that I knew what must be done to fix it. There is one who would know, and I will bleed her dry if I must in order to get answers.”

She lowered her gaze from his face, as though considering something. “You...know me, don't you.” She asked after a long moment. “I feel like I know you, but every time I try to remember-”

He set his fingers against her lips. “You needn't push yourself, my dear. You will remember in time. It could cause more harm than good.” He sighed, taking to pacing the floor again. “It is not as though we were good friends, Lady Sarah.” He smiled in a self-mocking manner which made it more of a grimace. “Forcing yourself to remember may create false memories, which could prevent the return of your real memories.”

She lowered her head, then gave a slight nod. “Okay.” She inclined her head, those milky eyes staring up at him as though she could actually see him. “Jareth? If we...weren't friends, why are you helping me?”

He smiled sadly. “Because it is likely to have ultimately been my own fault you are in this condition. However, I cannot know for sure until I question that woman.” He gave a soft sigh and took her hand in his. “I've no idea how long you will remain here. For your stay, I will be your eyes.” He pulled her to a standing position. “Those cretins have had enough time to make your room satisfactory.”

She gave a faint grin that was a shadow of the girl he remembered and his heart warmed in the face of that smile. Gently, he led her into the halls again, amused when the goblins scrambled to hide when the door opened. It was not long before he reached the chambers attached to his own. He led her within, pleased that they'd open the windows to let the room breath a bit.

She lifted her face towards the light, moving towards the window. He led her towards it, resting her hands upon the rail and standing behind her with his hands upon her shoulders. “You must be careful, even within your room. Always feel everything with your hands before you trust anything. Things are not always as they seem here.”

He felt the quiver that worked through her body and closed his eyes, breathing her scent deeply. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small crystal pendant. It was more, of course. He carefully placed it around her neck, latching the back beneath her hair. “Keep this on you always. If you wrap your hand around it, I will know you need me and I will be at your side in a moment. You will not need to remember my name, my face, or anything else.”

She wrapped her hand around it and he felt as though her hand were on him. A breath rushed from him and he squeezed her shoulders. “I will close the window. Learn your room with your hands.” Gently he turned her towards the room and stepped within. “On the left wall from this window there is a door. That door leads to my rooms. Do not enter them, dear one. It is forbidden.” He watched her feel blindly along the walls, her fingers caressing shelf and books until she reached that door.

“This one?” She asked quietly.

He smiled faintly. “Yes, Sarah. Memorize the way it feels and do not forget my warning. There are...dire consequences for walking into that room.” He moved swiftly towards her bedroom door. “Any other door is fine, although, be careful. If you decide to venture forth into the main castle, give that pendant a squeeze and wait for me. I do not wish you to wander accidentally into the Escher room and break your adorable little neck.”

She graced him with that smile once again, while feeling her way towards her bed. “Thank you, Jareth. I'll try to remember.”

He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her. This girl who had bewitched him so long ago. However, she would not understand, and even if she regained her memories, she would not be happy with him taking advantage. “I will go so you may learn your quarters. I have much I must do and not much time to complete these tasks in.”

She nodded, turning her face towards him.

He closed the door on her face, pacing down the hall to his study. Once within, he pulled out a crystal, and gave it a hard squeeze. “Show me my mother.” Even to his own ears, his voice was cold. The woman was looking into a mirror, brushing her long, pale hair. He took a steady breath and spoke to her. “Mother.”

Delight and surprise lit her face and she turned towards him, blue eyes shining. “My dear boy! It's so unexpected to hear from you.”

He stared at her face in disdain. “What have you done to Sarah?” He kept his tone cold. He saw surprise light the woman's features and perhaps a flicker of unease.

“Who?” She asked, as though trying to play the fool.

“You know very well who!” His fury was on the verge of breaking free of his tenuous control. “I know the feel of your spells, woman! What manner of curse have you cast upon her?!”

She blinked innocently, frowning. “Now, darling, perhaps you're mistaking-”

“No, if anyone has made a mistake, it's you!” He saw surprise flicker briefly into her eyes before it was hidden behind a cool exterior. “Did you think I wouldn't notice?! I've watched for five years! Wanted her for longer! Why, woman?! Why would you do this to her?!”

“Because you're too good for a foolish mortal who can't see beyond a screaming brat which is someone equally mortal!”

His jaw snapped shut. “No, mother. Don't lay the blame for this upon my shoulders. I never said I wanted her in pain.” Pain welled. “Say that you did not do this because she said what she did! I beg you!”

Her expression remained cool and aloof. “You'll be better off when she's dead.”

The connection went dark and Jareth sank into his chair, staring into the crystal. Closing his eyes, he pressed the crystal to his forehead, swearing viciously. He should never have told her about Sarah, he realized. He had believed her more sound than this.

Since the death of his father, he'd noticed she was slipping. She'd begun wearing more and more beauty spells to hide her aging. She'd ramble about being slighted by courtiers, spurned by lovers that he knew to be involved with women in other courts long before his mother set eyes upon them. How long had she been cursing those to get what she wanted?

He knew the answer.

Fifty years ago, he'd sat with his cousin's ailing wife and caught the faint scent of his mother's magic hanging around her. As soon as he'd left, he'd gone to her and ordered her to fix it. She'd silently mixed up a vial and headed off to their home.

Who else had she hurt like this? It would take some quiet inquiries. He sighed, letting his head fall back on the chair and he set the crystal down on his desk, staring at it, his face sad as he accepted the fact that his mother was mad.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

It had been hours since he'd left her. She'd long since learned the layout of the massive room he'd given her. She'd discovered a wardrobe full of dresses, and immediately pulled down one that was soft and simple in design, replacing her horrid hospital gown with that.

It seemed rather strange that she was able to remember him even after he'd left. Even more strange was the knowledge that his voice created a stirring inside her. It was like memories floating just a hair from her grasp. She reached towards them, but they were always just out of reach, as though someone had pulled a veil over her mind as they had over her sight.

She sat in a chair by the window, letting the sun beat down on her face. She knew she often sat like this in the hospital, just staring out the window, not seeing anything. All was darkness. Still, the warmth on her face felt nice. Her hands were learning the textures of the chair, running across the woods ridges and valleys, caressing the cushions she rested upon.

It was odd, how quickly she must have adapted to this new strangeness in her life. Roughly a week since she'd gone blind. A few days in the hospital. Now her fingers were her eyes, learning the tactile sensations of the world around her. Her ears picked up things she'd never have heard before, like the soft sound of song in the distance. She could smell...

Leather and spices. Her lips turned up into a small smile. “It's not nice to sneak up on a blind girl.” She teased lightly. “Jareth.”

There was a rough chuckle near her. “So you noticed?”

“I suppose my other senses are trying to make up for the missing one.” She passed a hand over her face. “I thought that this sort of compensation took years to develop.”

“Perhaps being in the Underground is causing them to hasten their development?”

She shook her head. “No, it started at the hospital, I think...” She turned her face towards the man. “Is the boy alright?”

“Toby is fine, my dear. He is, however, wondering the same thing about you.” There was a long moment of silence and she felt leather clad fingers wrap around hers and something cool and round pressed into her hand. “I cannot help you see him, not yet, however this should help you speak to him if you'd like.”

“I...” She clutched the crystal to her chest, nodding. “Thanks.”

He chuckled softly and suddenly, she felt hands holding hers, helping her stand. “You're most welcome. Now, let's get you fed. The goblins have likely seen to some manner of dinner by now.”

She nodded, finding herself smiling at this man. His touch was unfamiliar, it didn't cause the same stirring of memories that those of her brother did, however, it did cause a different kind of stirring. It made her knees weak, her throat dry. Her heart pounded, her breath quickened. When she'd touched his face, it had caused a tingle in her flesh, a strange quiver. Whenever he stood close to her, and she could smell leather and spices, it caused a strange pang inside her.

Where were these feelings coming from? She didn't even know the man, yet she felt as though he had been an important part of her life, possibly for a very long time. Maybe he was, she thought, suddenly surprised. It made sense. Just because she couldn't remember him didn't mean he hadn't been there. She could scarce remember the boy, even less other members of her family. Yet somehow, being here at this man's side, she thought she might begin to remember somethings.

She was led through the halls, feeling the stone beneath her feet until something caused her to pause and she looked towards her right. The air had changed. It was laced with tension, desperation, and something else. 

Jareth had attempted to continue walking, however was pulled to a stop when she refused to move. “What is there?” She pointed in the direction she could feel that confused tangle of emotions issuing from. It was so strong it actually made her nauseous.

There was quiet for a long moment, and only the smell of him and the leather hand in hers told her he remained. “That is the Escher room.” His voice was quiet, filled with melancholy. “It is where the runners that make it this far make their final stand. You...have stood there before.”

There was something more. She could feel it, but the man did not seem inclined to answer more questions regarding it, so she let him pull her forward as they continued to the dining room. She quickened her steps and shyly put her other hand around the one which held her own.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Morgaine raged as she paced her now mostly destroyed study. After ending the conversation with her son, she'd unleashed her rage on her surroundings, smashing cauldrons, spell bottles, as well as several priceless ingredients.

Why could her son not see she was trying to do what was best for him?!

He needed to forget that mortal girl if he was to have a chance at any life. The best hope for him forgetting the girl was her death. At least his communication had told her that Mordred's mission had been accomplished. She didn't understand why her nephew had not come to tell her of his success. He shouldn't have cared for the death curse she'd placed upon the girl.

Within days of the curse being administered, the girl would die. The child did not love her son, she'd left him for a brat, had spurned his affections for a mortal child. That curse would destroy every fiber of her being. A harsh laugh left the woman and she called her mirror, looking upon it. “Show me that wretched girl!”

What she saw shocked her. The girl was not wasting away. In fact, she appeared to be thriving. She sat beside Jareth, who was smiling and chatting with her about things Morgaine could not hear. Now and then he'd gently guide her hand to a utensil. Fury gripped her. How dare he try to mess up all of her hard work! And more importantly, why wasn't the girl dead?! Why did she appear to be happy?!

The woman began pacing, resisting the urge to throw the mirror as she cut off the communication. Most importantly, why was she here?! There were laws regarding bringing a mortal into the Underground, and her son was not foolish enough to go against those laws. Immigration rules required several tests.

That thought sparked an idea. It was possible her son had used the assistance of a Dream Weaver to contact the above and get a family member to wish her away. If that was the case, she was an immigrant, and should be held to the codes. However, what was the wish? How soon would the contract to serve the Goblin Kingdom negate itself.

She would go to the hall of wishes. All wishes made in the Above and granted were recorded there. She could find the wish which brought the wretch into the Underground. Even if it was a temporary wish, which would lead to her eventually being returned to the Above, her stubborn boy would not let the girl go now that he had her. Eventually, she would have to face the trials and at that point...

At that point, she could strike against her.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Sarah sipped her water, keeping her face down, even as she felt herself being watched. She tried to act normal, tried to pretend she didn't notice. The man beside her had not spoken of it, was merely eating his food as though nothing were wrong, carrying on a light, amicable conversation. For someone who had not been her friend, he treated her remarkably well. After a long moment, she felt the sensation of being stared at ease. “We are being watched, aren't we?”

“Yes, dear girl. We are.” He reached towards her hand, resting his own on it. “You did well to pretend you did not notice. You always could tell when you were being watched. Even when...” He seemed to cut himself off and chuckled. “How do you feel? Are you full? It's getting quite late and you should get some rest.”

She nodded. “Would you show me the rest of the castle tomorrow?” She felt silly asking like that. It wasn't as though she could see it. Yet, she found she could feel the changes in the air, environment, mood, and moving through the castle, she could feel it imprinting those sensations on her mind, like a map.

He seemed bemused by the question. “Yes, I suppose. Perhaps you'd like to take a walk in some of the gardens as well. I know a gardener who has been worried sick about you.” He guided her back to her room and she gratefully clung to his hand, even as she trailed her other one along the stone, learning the measure of paces, the number of stones. He opened her door and seemed to pause. “Do you need my assistance?”

“Um...” She lowered her gaze. “Can I have something to sleep in? I don't want to put that hospital gown back on.”

She heard him pass into the room and the soft creak of the wardrobe as he opened it. “Ah, here we are. A chemise should do the trick. I'll lay it on your bed, precious.” She heard the hanger hit the top of the wardrobe as he pulled the dress down and then his footfalls as he moved across the room. His voice took on a teasing air. “Do you need my help putting it on?”

A dark flush lit her face and she shook her head, waving her hands. “No, I think I can manage.” She lowered her head as his foot fall drifted towards her and that enchanting scent drifted under her nose again.

“Then I shall bid you good night, Sarah.” He said softly, and she felt his lips press a gentle kiss against her brow.

Her heart nearly stopped and didn't seem to function properly until the door had been shut behind him as he left. She lay a hand upon her fluttering heart and felt a twinge of confusion. Trying to ignore it, she stripped out of the dress and moved towards her bed, pulling on the chemise, and flopping exhausted upon the mattress. Sleep came slowly, as her mind lingered over the fleeting kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

If anything could be said about the Underground, it was that rumors spread quicker than wild fire in southern California.

Eyes were drawn to the strange palanquin which was pulled through the streets of Avalon. Whispers went up as people gathered and tried to peer into the carriage as it passed. Words were spoken in hushed voices about a mortal girl who was under the protection of the Goblin King.

The identity of the girl was a closely guarded secret. The few times she'd been taken outside of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, it was in the company of a small guard of creatures. Suspicions were high that the girl was the intended bride of Jareth, the Goblin King, the narcissistic youngest son of Lady Morgaine. No one had spoken to the woman, who displayed a intense level of over-protectiveness and a downright creepy level of territoriality regarding the man.

Everyone in the realm had a respect and healthy fear of the man, which of course led everyone to wonder what manner of mortal he might find suitable as a companion. Everyone presumed she must be a fearful sort of person, to catch the attention of the Goblin King. After all, how would he respect her if she did not have as much power as him?

Naturally, the speculation led to an uproar when the palanquin entered the city rolled down the bustling streets, on it's way to the castle at it's center. Everyone was trying to steal a glimpse of the mortal who had plopped down into the Goblin King's life.

“I do wish they'd quit staring...” Sarah mumbled in discomfort.

There was a chuckle across from the man beside her. “They cannot help themselves,” he said quietly. “They are curious about you. It would seem that the rumor mill in the Underground is working swimmingly well.” He arched an eyebrow, patting her hand gently in an attempt to comfort her.

It had been a full week since she'd arrived in the Underground, and it was taking a great deal of effort on his part to take things easy with the girl. He'd managed for the most part to treat her with care, to not grow frustrated at the lack of progress. He no longer had to remind her of his name first thing in the morning, but he feared the ramifications of growing too close to her while she lacked her memories. It would undoubtedly cause him even more mental and emotional anguish should she abandon him once again. 

He didn't like that he had to take her from the castle, but he had to present her before the court and inform them of the circumstances of her visit to the Underground. He'd already received several carefully worded inquiries regarding the girl. She'd finally begun to find her way around on her own a bit, navigating her room and the main halls of the castle with a shocking ease. He often watched her do it, dragging her fingers lightly along the wall, counting stones and steps.

She was amazingly relaxed in his presence. He had never imagined that she would be so at ease at his side, especially after their volatile relationship the last time she was in the Underground.

She squirmed a bit. “You're staring,” she mumbled again, her cheeks turning faintly pink.

He smiled faintly. He loved the subtleties of her expressions. “I can't help but want to watch you, Sarah. Your features are delightfully expressive, and you're quite lovely. Even if my favorite features have a veil pulled over them.”

He was delighted by the blush which colored her cheeks as she lowered her head. “A-ah...” She lowered her gaze. “Why do we have to come here again?” She asked, her voice holding an edge of nervousness. A hand swept her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit that must be rather old, since her body still did it without thinking.

“Because they know you're here, and they wish to make certain you are not being mistreated by me and mine.” The cart slowed to a stop at the base of the castle steps. He stood, stepped down and slipped a hand beneath Sarah's to assist her as she came down as well. He heard gasps and whispers when she stepped into view, but kept his face schooled in an expression of calm. He could see the embarrassment on Sarah's face and knew she could tell they were whispering about her eyes. She descended the steps, keeping her head lowered to hide the blush of shame on her face.

Once she'd descended, he pulled her close, putting his lips near her ear. “You have no cause to be ashamed, Precious. Hold your head high and walk with pride. You stand at the side of the Goblin King as my equal.” He murmured softly. He drew back, still holding her hands gently in his own and he caught the defiant expression on her face. “For your will is strong, and your kingdom as great.” He said softly, then gently rested her hand upon the top of his own, walking forward.

She walked beside him, her back straight, her face forward, eyes unseeing. Yes, this is who he wanted to introduce to them, this Sarah. The Sarah who had fought against him six years ago, the Sarah who had earned his respect and love. The Sarah who was showing herself more and more in front of him, even though her memories seemed no closer to returning than when she'd first appeared in his throne room. At the entrance to the castle, they were met by several guards and the butler, who looked Sarah over, frowning.

“Your highness...” The butler bowed. “Lady.”

Jareth smirked. “Hiya, Timm. Where can I find Gwenny and Arty?”

“It's Thomas, Sir.” The butler corrected respectfully, before pushing the door open. “The King is in the War room, and the Lady is in the gardens.”

“Uh-oh. Marital strife on the horizon. They're rarely separate,” Jareth explained as he led her within the castle. “No, no, John, we can find them ourselves.”

“It's Thomas, Sir.”

When they were alone, Sarah gave him a funny look. “What?” He asked, smirking. Even to him, his voice sounded a tad too amused.

“Did you honestly forget his name or were you just trying to piss him off?”

He couldn't suppress the grin which turned up his lips. “That will have to remain a secret of mine for a while, love. Though truth be told, I never was very good with names.”

“Too self-absorbed?”

He smirked at her snarky response. “Something like that.” He leaned close and noticed she sniffed the air and got an almost nervous look on her face. It reminded him of how she looked when he leaned over her in the tunnels below the Labyrinth, only her eyes...He lifted his free hand, gently touching the corner of her eyes. How he missed them.

“Jareth? Is that you?”

The soft, feminine voice caused him to drop his hand and turn towards the woman it belonged to. “Ah, Gwenny, dear, how are you doing!” He led Sarah forward, pretending he hadn't been lost in his own little world and moments away from leaning down to kiss those eyes.

The woman had incredibly long hair, twisted into a thick, disobedient braid. Around her head was a small band of gold, the symbol of her station. She offered her hands and he stepped forward, kissing both in a kind manner before pulling Sarah forward. “This is Sarah Williams, visiting...temporarily from the Above.” The word 'temporarily' stuck in his throat.

He watched the woman examine the one beside him. Then, she stepped forward, cupping Sarah's face and turning her head from side to side. “You are a lovely one, aren't you.” She smiled. “What color are your eyes usually?”

“I...I don't remember-”

“Green.” Jareth said calmly. He gave the queen the faintest shake of his head. “She is why I am here, Gwenny. I must speak to Arty-”

“I hope you're not going to call him that in public. He hates that nickname.”

He winked at her, then turned towards Sarah. “Sarah, I must ask that you accompany Gwenny. Fear not, she wont let harm befall you.” He pressed a habitual kiss against her forehead before releasing her. He gave the queen a look before he walked away. Before he got too far, he glanced back, seeing blond leading brunette to the sun room.

He took a steadying breath before seeking out the war room.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Guenevere looked the young lady before her and took her hands in her own. “Come along, Lady Sarah. Let us take you to the sun room. It has many flowers blooming inside of it. My husband is rather enamored of Aboveland flowers.”

“I'd like that.”

She watched the blind girl as they walked, examining her features. In the Underground, brown hair was not uncommon, however, it was usually paired with a swarthy tone of skin, rather than this pale, freckled variety. Her facial features were not individually exceptionally beautiful, however, the combination seemed to be more attractive. She truly wished she could see the girls natural eye color, since one like green was incredibly uncommon in the Underground.

More interesting than the features was the way the girl responded to stimuli. She would incline her head as though she heard something that was below average level of hearing. Her nose flared periodically, picking up lingering scents. Now and then she'd pause, seeming to hesitate, her brow wrinkling.

“You are coping with your curse very well.” The queen said quietly.

Sarah lowered her eyes, seeming uncertain for a moment. “It's probably because I...don't remember not having it. I'm on...auto pilot I suppose.” She lowered her head. “Jareth has been making it easier. He's been very kind.”

Guenevere smiled wryly. He's been very in love, she corrected mentally, remembering the gentle kiss he'd placed upon the girl's forehead before he'd wandered off to find her husband. “Has he? It is odd to think of him as kind. He's been a little terror since he was very young.”

There was a perplexed look on the girl's face. The woman smiled faintly. “Obviously he hasn't failed at being vague when it suits him. “I am his aunt by marriage.” She said softly. “Arthur and his mother Morgaine are half-siblings.”

Her brow wrinkled. “He calls his uncle Arty?”

“Much to the displeasure of my husband.” She laughed softly. “Jareth is more like his uncle than he may realize. They both became king at a very young age, and when it was decided that Jareth, out of all of Morgaine's sons, would rule, he was brought here to learn from he who is often considered the 'best'.” Guenevere pushed open the door to the Sun Room and watched the girl walk within, pause and lift her face to the glass ceiling.

Sarah, meanwhile, was taking in the feel of the place, breathing the scent in the air, feeling the warmth upon her face. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the sweet smells. The room had a calming feel, something that she'd found in a few of the gardens around Jareth's castle, but there was something else...something a little bittersweet-

“Ah, Lady Guenevere, I didn't realize you had a guest-”

The whole atmosphere changed in that instant. She turned towards the voice and frowned at the strange sensation it caused to race through her. Unease, discomfort. The room swelled with fear, pain, and other distinctly uncomfortable emotions.

“Mordred, dear, whatever are you doing at the castle!” Sarah heard soft foot falls and reached out, gripping the queen's arm. “Sarah, whatever is wrong?”

Sarah felt her breaths grow quick, her hands trembling. Her knees felt weak. She scrambled a hand up, gripping the pendant which hung, cool against her skin. Slowly, she backed away from the source of that discomfort, taking her companion with her. 

Her head grew light and her weakening knees finally gave up. She barely heard two voices call out to her as the ground came up to meet her.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth's knees almost gave out when he felt a wave of Sarah's feelings wash over him. They were colored with panic and fear. He'd been discussing her curse with his uncle when it happened. He gripped the table roughly to keep himself on his feet before moved towards the door with as much speed and purpose as he could manage. He ignored the inquiry from the man, his only thought was go get to Sarah's side.

He heard his uncle striding behind him as he moved, but didn't turn to speak. His feet, instead, pulled him unerringly towards where the initial feeling had come from. His palm hit the door to the Sun Room and he walked in to find Sarah laying, unconscious on one of the loungers, Gwenny lightly dabbing her face with a cool cloth. “What happened?!” He snarled as he walked in. “I was gone for twenty minutes! What happened, Gwenny?!”

“Don't raise your voice to your aunt.” Arthur said crossly, then turned, looking for and finding another occupant in the room. “Mordred, what a pleasant surprise. Whatever are you doing here?”

Jareth's eyes snapped towards the other man, who was sitting, head lowered, a great deal of pain on his face. “Morty-”

“I'm so sorry, Jareth.” The man said, lifting his face. Since he'd last seen his cousin, the man had appeared to have aged several decades. “I...I had no idea who she was.”

There were several ways to interpret that sentence and her reaction. He could have grabbed her. They could have encountered each other when Sarah became separated from his aunt. Neither of these were likely. He took a deep breath, pinning his cousin. “Why are you apologizing to me, Morty. You should be clear and precise, if you please.”

Mordred lowered his head once again. “You remember when Ailith took sick? She...Your mother arrived later and healed her. She said a price must be paid and...since then has been using me to deliver her carefully crafted death curses in the guise of gifts.”

Jareth moved towards Sarah and looked down at her, unable to look at his cousin's head. “Then you're the one who gave the curse which took her sight and mind?”

“I didn't realize. I...didn't like doing it, but Morgaine...she said she would take my wife away if I didn't do as she asked! I had to! I...I can't live without Ailith. I didn't know she meant anything to you until Hoggle came. I swear it, Jareth.” He stood, pacing restlessly. “I was bored, entertaining children in the park with the crystals, juggling them like you taught me. She...was crying. I engaged her in conversation, but I swear, I did not even know it was her. After I spoke to her and learned her name, I tried to hurry to leave. The crystal fell, she picked it up and handed it to me. I'm...”

Arthur put a hand on his shoulder. “How long?”

“It's been fifty years...they'd been growing more frequent until this girl. It took six years to find her.” He laughed weakly. “Lucky for her that Sarah is such a common name in the Above. Not so lucky for Morgaine. She was furious with how long it was taking...”

“That woman...” Jareth took several calming breath. “Was under the incorrect misconception that I wished Sarah to come to harm after she defeated the Labyrinth. When I found out, I enlisted the aid of her brother to bring her here. He wished her into my protection. Once she is no longer in need of it...I suppose she'll wish to return home.” The knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Mordred...you should have contacted me as soon as she begun using you. She is the reason your wife took ill to begin with.”

Every conscious person in the room turned to look at him, stunned. “What?!” Guenevere hissed, aghast.

He sighed, focusing on Sarah. Gently, he brushed her hair from her brow before looking up at them. “I went to sit with Ailith when she was dying. I...recognized the feel of her magic. She did most of my training when I was young, so I'm familiar with it. It's distinct. When I felt it, I went to her and demanded she remove the curse from Lady Ailith. I had no idea she would do something like this...”

“She goes too far!” Arthur said quietly. “She was always...darker, but when your father was here, there was more good than evil in her.”

Gently, Jareth lifted Sarah. “There are rooms in the family wing? She will have one adjoining my own. It's easier to look after her if I don't have to look far.”

“Jareth...” Gwenny said, resting a hand upon his shoulder. “How long have you...”

He lowered his gaze. “Since she conquered my Labyrinth.” He said quietly. Then, he left them, holding his precious bundle against his chest. It was a grim reality, knowing that once Sarah remembered how much she had in the Above that she would abandon him once again. He wasn't certain he could bear to let her go.

The room he typically used was already set up and he checked the adjoining room, finding it immaculate as well. He moved inside, gently setting her on the bed. As he straightened, he found milky-white eyes open and aimed in his general direction. “Hello, precious...”

She relaxed. “Jareth...”

“You gave me quite a fright.” He said quietly. “Mordred is sorry. He did not mean to cause you harm.” He saw her brow crease in confusion and frowned deeply. “You do remember what happened, don't you?”

“I...” After a moment, she shook her head. “Where are we?”

He sighed softly, brushing her hair back. “We're in Avalon, remember? At court?”

Slowly, she nodded. Her brow was creased as she pondered this. “What...happened?”

He smirked a bit. “You fainted. Pity I arrived so late. It would have been fun to tease you about falling into my arms.”

Her cheeks brightened with a flush and he gently eased her into a sitting position and put his arms around her, hugging her gently to his chest. “Ah, Sarah...Try not to scare me like that anymore. It is quite unsettling to come upon you in such a state.”

He felt more than saw her head bob in agreement. “I have a headache...” She mumbled softly.

He eased her face up, looking down at her. “I should be able to help with that...” Gently, he leaned forward, considering a kiss upon her forehead once again. However, the way her lips parted innocently and her brow furrowed in what seemed to be discontent, changed his mind. His breath left him raggedly and he brushed his lips across hers softly, just once.

Her breath sucked in sharply, and her eyes widened. She backed away a bit, setting her fingers on her lips, as though pondering the sensation.

“Better?” He teased lightly.

Her flushed face lifted and after a long moment, she nodded shyly before lowering her face once again.

Her reaction was only mildly encouraging. “Sarah?” He gently coaxed her face up and looking down at her in concern. Her lips were trembling with her obviously frayed nerves and he felt like a cad. He shouldn't have done that when she was already off kilter. “Why do you look like you're about to cry, precious?”

She looked so uncertain. “I...I don't know. I just...can't remember...” She lifted her face. “But I remember more when I'm with you.” She said softly, before tucking her head beneath his chin, effectively hiding in his shirt.

He smiled faintly, tucking his arms comfortably around her. “Then pray, stay with me until you are yourself once more.” He stroked her hair, closing his eyes and enjoying her smell. He rocked her gently, even as he heard her begin to softly hum. It took him a moment to recognize the melody, but when he did, his heart nearly stopped beating in his chest. He took several calming breaths to keep from frightening her. “Sarah, darling? Where did you hear that song?”

There was no response. He tried to ease back, but her hand was fisted tightly in his shirt. Gently, he hooked a finger beneath her chin, easing her face up, only to find her eyes closed, her lips smiling peacefully. She was sleeping. He sighed in exasperation, slowly laying her back on the bed. Once she was settled, he tried to stand, but her hand was still fisted into the fabric of his shirt and seemed quite reluctant to let go. With an exasperated chuckle, he settled onto the bed beside her, pressing his nose to the crown of her head.

“Such a sad love, indeed.” He murmured, stroking her hair gently. “Goodnight, precious one.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sarah knew it was morning, because she could hear the sound of birds near her window, singing a cheerful little tune which made her groan and burrow farther into whatever delicious-smelling pillow was laying next to her. Still bleary with sleep, she nuzzled her face into said pillow, too sleepy to notice the sharp gasp that came from it. Smiling broadly, she breathed the smell deeply and wondered if Arty and Gwenny would mind terribly if she took this pillow home with her. It smelled just like-

Jareth.

Her eyes bugged and she lifted a hand, touching the face of her 'pillow', finding that slightly hooked nose, those high cheekbones, and finally, those lips, which were turned up into a faint smirk.

“Good morning, Sarah.”

Several possible reactions ran through Sarah's mind. Literally everything from scrambling out of the bed backwards and as fast as she could, to pressing her blushing face back into his chest and sniffing him for a little bit longer. God, his scent was intoxicating. He smelled so good he almost seemed...edible. Wondering briefly how the Goblin King would respond to her nibbling on him a bit, she finally turned her face up to his.

“G'morning...” She mumbled. That was not what she wanted to say. She wanted to ask why he was in her bed, why he was holding her like she was going to disappear, and why oh why, he seemed to have stripped out of his velvet jacket, leaving him in that oh, so thin silk shirt.

“How do you feel?”

She put her face back into his shirt, sighing softly. There were several answers to that question. She felt warm, comfortable, safe, cherished. She felt as though she'd been wrapped in a blanket of peace and tranquility as surely as his arms were wrapped around her. There was a sensation of pleasant contentment radiating from the man who held her. “How d'ya mean?” She mumbled, her voice muffled slightly by his shirt.

Her head bounced slightly as he chuckled. “You fainted last eve when you ran into my cousin Mordred in the Sun Room. When you woke, you complained of a headache...” he paused for a moment. “Ergo, how do you feel?”

She huffed softly. “I don't faint.” The complaint drew another chuckle from the man who held her. “I don't!”

“While I'm certain you normally do not faint, you did. You must have grabbed the pendant, because just as sure as I'm laying here now, I felt your pain and panic. You were frightened, precious. I'd go as far as to say you were terrified. You worried me greatly.” His hand gently brushed her hair back and she sighed softly in contentment. “Can you recall what scared you so?”

She went silent for a moment, mentally looking back. She remembered entering the Sun Room, which had felt warm and wonderful, filled with bright feelings of youthful romance, but it was tainted faintly with bittersweetness. Then...she'd heard a voice. A male voice, and the woman – Gwenny, or Lady Guenevere, Jareth's aunt – had spoken to the man, called him Mordred...then fear had swept through her for a reason she could not remember.

“I...heard a voice. It was a man's voice, it was...familiar. I don't know how to explain it. I felt that he was startled to see me and for some reason, that voice and the name...” She shook her head, pressing her face into his chest, her head starting to ache again. “Dammit...”

His arms tightened around her and a gloved hand gently stroked the back of her head. “That's enough, darling.” He sighed, and she felt her hair move from the wind it created. Then, there was a pressure at the crown of her head, and somehow, she knew he'd kissed her there. “It would appear that your sixth sense is sharpening as well. That is good.”

Suddenly, sensation washed over her and she gasped in surprise, feeling warmth and affection pouring off of the man that held her. Beneath those gentle emotions, however was something dark and a little frightening. A bit nervous, she lifted her face, suddenly very nervous. “Jareth?”

His hand touched her chin, holding her face still. “Ah, love, it is so difficult to be your knight. Deep inside me there is a villain crying to be released. That dark piece of me wants nothing more than to take advantage of every situation your innocence puts you in...”

Her cheeks warmed and she realized with a bit of horror that she was blushing. “I...”

“Kiss me, Sarah-mine,” his voice begged. Her heart lodged in her throat. He sounded so wistful, so hopeful, that she couldn't deny him. Her hands came to rest on his chest, right at the edge where the silk of his shirt met his smooth skin. She swallowed hard, licking her lips, leaning slowly towards him, guided gently by his hands.

Her lips were a hair's breath away from his when there was a knock at the door and it popped open. Her face jerked up and she stared in the direction of the sound.

“Oh. Oooooh...” A male voice came from the door. “Well, I was coming to say breakfast was ready, but I suppose you'll be down when you're done. Try to keep the noise down, Jareth.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth stared in disbelief at his uncle, mentally cursing his poor timing in every language he knew well and a few he only knew enough of to swear in. Once the door was closed behind the rather amused, smug older man, the Goblin King let his head fall back onto the pillow. “Damn, lousy timing...”

Sarah's face turned towards him, and a strangled giggle left her lips, her hands flying up to cover her mouth and nose as a snort left her.

He blinked, looking down at the girl who was laughing and trembling, still leaning over him. His heart warmed and a wry chuckle escaped him. It sounded more like a huff than a laugh, but it seemed to cause the girl to start laughing harder. Seeing her laugh like that, he couldn't help himself. He wrapped his arms around her, rolling her giggling form to the mattress and staring down at her, smiling wildly. “Ah, you're beautiful when you're laughing...” He permitted himself a brief moment of melancholy, remembering that her happiness was with him.

Hands lifted and her fingertips were dusting over his cheeks, towards his mouth. As they skimmed across there, he kissed them gently, nipping the skin between his sharp teeth. “You feel...sad?”

He lowered his head, he felt her hands dance through the wild strands upon it. “I've no greater fear than you losing the memories of our time together here.” He kept his voice quiet, so he would not frighten her. “It could happen. I've no idea of the penalty for wiping the spell from your eyes...” He rested his ear over her heart, listening to it beat beneath his ear. “Would that you would never forget this time...”

Her hands tightened their grip in his hair. “I would never-”

“A price must always be paid, love. The price for your old life might be this one you are forging now. I hate to tell you, you cannot have both.”

She went quiet and he wanted to swear. He lifted himself onto his arms, staring down at her, brushing her hair from her face. “Come along, my precious one. My uncle says there is a table of food awaiting us. We must go eat, before Gwenny comes up to tease me.” He sat, helping her upright and walking towards the wardrobe along one wall. He pulled it open, finding a lovely gown of lavender linen and took it down, laying it on the bed beside her. “Would you like me to call a maid to assist you?”

She shook her head, her face perplexed. “Thank you, Jareth.”

He trailed his gloved fingers over her cheek, staring down at her lovingly. “I'll be just one room over, so if you should need me...”

“I'll call.” She nodded, her face suddenly adorably shy. As he pulled away, she gripped his hand for one moment before releasing it.

Quickly, he left her alone, closing the door between their rooms and leaning against it. Damn. It was difficult to enjoy being at her side when the knowledge that she would likely leave him once more came to mind. She had a family back home. Family who loved her. A brother who probably missed her. To ask her to stay would be asking her to give up everything.

And what could he give her for her trouble?

All he had to give her was his heart and a crown she'd probably not want. He had everything to gain and she had everything to lose.

He dug through his own wardrobe, finding something to remind himself that he was supposed to play her hero, not take advantage of the fact that she was here and do everything in his power to keep her there. To do so was to grossly betray the trust his heir had placed in him. It was his duty to protect Sarah. Had he, however, known how difficult protecting her from himself would be, he would have let her stay with Hoggle.

He would have choked on doing so, but he would have done it.

As much as Sarah's presence made him wish to be villainous, as much as he longed for her and loved her, as the Goblin King, his duty to her brother came first. Besides, should those memories return without his knowledge during a compromising situation, anything he managed to build with this Sarah, who remembered nothing of his cruelty, would be compromised.

Better to wait until she came to herself, better to show her that he was more than the man who had taken her brother at her behest. If she retained even a fraction of the memories from her time in the Underground, he prayed that she remembered that he was kind to her.

He changed out of the garments he'd worn the evening before, then gently tapped on Sarah's door. “Precious? Are you dressed?”

There was no answer.

He frowned deeply, pushing the door open, peering into the room. What he found had panic shooting into his heart. Sarah lay back on her bed, eyes staring unblinking at the ceiling. Her hand was just a hair away from the crystal, clenching desperately. He swore, rushing towards her. Putting a little extra volume in his voice care of his magic, he called out to his aunt and uncle, while climbing onto the bed over her. There was an answering call, and he felt more than heard them heading towards the room.

Gently, he pushed her wild hair from her face, searching her gaze. “Sarah, precious one...” He called softly, trying to draw her back from where ever she was. He was actually afraid to touch her, for fear that she would be harmed. Her body bowed, arched, and a scream of pain left her throat, her hands flying to her head.

He swore viciously, waiting until her body collapsed and he pulled her now slack form to his chest, cradling her now frighteningly still form to him. He could tell what it was. That last damn hook of his mother's damnable curse trying to sink into her, to tear her life away from her. “Fight it, darling. Fight it for me, for your family, for yourself. Don't...” His voice broke and he hated it. “Don't die, Sarah. Don't die, my love, for I might die right along with you.”

The door burst open and Guenevere rushed in. Two servants were in attendance, and were setting up a minute altar. “What are you-”

“Your father went to get him...”

Jareth nearly collapsed in relief. “It's that damnable curse...I can't do anything. I don't have this manner of knowledge...I just...” He swore viciously, simply cradling Sarah to his chest, rocking her gently. “Damn that woman, I'll kill her myself.”

“I'm afraid she is not yours to punish, Jareth.” There was a firm warning in his aunts voice and he looked up, seeing the firm warning on her face.

He sighed, pressing his face back into the girl's hair. There was movement by the door and Jareth looked up, finding his cousin standing there, a look of concern on his face. Quietly, nervously, Mordred entered the room, moving towards the girl. “I...have the knowledge, but I lack the power. I'm not that strong. I received the powers from mother's side, but theirs were always weaker. Father's powers within me didn't flourish.”

Jareth's eyes sharpened. “What must be done?” He asked quietly.

“Oh, no, boyo.” Guenevere lightly cuffed the side of his head with her hand. “You may love the girl, but you're not going to experiment to break this curse.”

“She is right.”

The aged, wizened voice came from the doorway. Jareth looked up and saw a tall, willowy man with a long white beard enter the room. His hair was close cropped to his head, his silvery-white brows and lashes hung over startlingly blue eyes. Jareth's grip around the girl tightened slightly, protectively. “Caledonensis-”

“Boy, set your mate down and breath easy.” As Jareth did as he was told, the moved forward, peering down at the girl in interest. “Lovely eyes, she has. Green is a rare color here...”

“Yes.” Jareth agreed sadly. “You can see them?”

“Foolish question, boy, of course I can see through the veil placed over them.” The man set an aged hand upon the girl's forehead, and Jareth opened his mouth to object, upset that the man touched her so intimately. “Boy, if you cannot conduct yourself properly in this sick room, you will be removed from it,” Caledonensis warned. Those nearly electric blue eyes fell closed and the man turned inward, tasting the flavor of the spell which had been placed upon the girl.

Jareth could scarcely stand there, waiting. Mordred stood at his back with Guenevere and Arthur, all three of them offering silent support. Closing his eyes tightly, he broke away from them, striding towards the door. “Call me when she wakens. I...have never been fond of bedside vigils...” He strode from the room, seeking out a way to take his mind away from the knowledge that the girl lay upon that bed, likely dying, and he, her protector, her knight, could no naught to help her.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Caledonensis frowned as the boy left, then returned his gaze to the girl who lay stretched out on the bed. The curse was quite a nasty piece of work. He knew, from what Arthur had told him on the way here, that Morgaine, Arthur's half-sister, had cast the spell. She was quite the witch, despite never being granted title. He had seen over her instruction in magic himself, making certain she understood the consequences tied to using a spell such as this.

“Oh, child, she's made a mess of you...” he said quietly. “Arthur, clear the room, my boy. This will not be pretty and I'd prefer that Jareth did not learn of what must be done.”

“What...must be done?” The king asked quietly. “Merlin?”

The old man sighed, turning at his given name. “I must sever the piece which is trying to latch on. If it succeeds in sinking it's teeth in further, the child will die.”

Arthur paled, and with a wave of his hand, summoned the others from within the room. Once the door was shut, he waved a hand, sealing the room from intrusion from any direction. “Morgaine, you always were a clever little witch.” The old man murmured softly, brushing the girl's hair back from her face once more.

Then, he used his magic to reach within her and sever the magic which had not already sunk it's fangs into her.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

He'd wandered the castle for hours. He knew from experience that something like this could be a long and arduous process. He'd briefly stopped in the kitchens for a nibble, however, he felt too ill to eat anything. Several times, he could feel her pain through the crystal necklace he'd given her, and it almost brought him to his knees.

Eventually, however, those feelings ebbed, leaving a wary confusion, exhaustion, and eventually, he could feel her drift off to her dreams.

At that point, he headed back to their rooms, finding everyone else waiting outside. “How...is she?” Jareth asked quietly upon stopping. “She feels...”

“Caledonensis says he was able to break the magic which had not already gained hold.” Arthur looked concerned. “Jareth-”

“The boy returns.”

Jareth looked up as the old man stepped from the room. Immediately, concern gripped him. The man looked as though he'd aged several decades attempting to free Sarah of the magic. He knew that the man was old, but he'd never seemed truly old, until now. “It appears to have taken some time...”

Mordred jumped up, offering the ancient man his seat. As the man sat, Jareth could hear his bones creak and pop and winced faintly. “Your mother...was a clever witch. She always has been. It is made very obvious by her curse on that girl.” The man shook his head. “Three levels, three spells, each of which takes a bit longer to reach maturity than the last. The best I can guess was her sight went first.”

Jareth closed his eyes. “That was my guess as well. Hoggle, my gardener and a friend of Lady Sarah's, saw her shortly after the curse had begun to take her. He said she was already blind and could not remember much of anything. By the time I saw her, even things she was relearning slipped away like water. It's scarce been two weeks since it all began...”

He nodded, frowning deeply, those lines which cut across his face deepening. “It is very fortunate you were here in Avalon when the final piece of the spell began to take hold. It was viciously quick, and had I not gotten here so quickly, the girl would have died.” The man shook his head. “There is nothing I can do for her sight or mind. I do not hold the key to return what was lost. I believe that key rests in your hands, Jareth.”

The Goblin King lowered his gaze, moving towards the room.

“She is very weak at present, boy. Do not let her sense disgust at her current appearance. Her body burned a great deal of itself in combating the curse, much as mine did.”

He swallowed hard, pushing the door open. He entered silently, then closed the door behind him. Moving towards the bed, he saw what his mentor meant. In mere hours, her body had consumed a large amount of muscle, as well as most of her excess fat, leaving her painfully thin. He bit his lip hard, sitting on the bed. Her milk-white eyes opened, turning towards him.

Her brow furrowed faintly, and her lips turned into a faint frown. “Jareth...?”

He took her frail hand, lifting it and pressing his lips against the flesh. “I'm with you, darling.” He promised, ignoring the others who were gathered at the door. “I'm here...”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

They remained in Avalon a great deal longer than originally planned. It was nearly another full week before she was able to consume food more solid than soft cheeses and bits of bread soaked in broth. Caledonensis periodically took Sarah from Jareth's care, for check-ups, and – Jareth suspected – teaching her how to harness the magic that was part of the Underground.

Once she was up to traveling outside the castle, he took her around Avalon, to the city gardens, so she could feel the sun on her face. Sometimes, they went to the city's vast public library, where he would find a quiet corner and read her literature in some of the Underground languages that were pleasing to the ear. Other times, he would guide her on meandering walks around the market section of town.

He had no problem acting as her escort, had grown quite adept at reading how much she could stand before she needed to return to the castle. He ignored the speculative looks from the people in whatever section of town they were wandering that day. Yes, the rumor mill was up and in fine working order in the Underground. Word was already spreading that she was warming his bed, which was not entirely untrue, as he spent more nights laying beside her than was probably safe for his heart.

He was tired of resisting what his heart demanded of him. He loved this woman, the defiant heart hidden behind a quiet calm she'd not possessed when he'd first met her. Now and then, when he wasn't looking directly at her, he almost thought he saw her lovely eyes glittering with that defiance, but when he turned he simply found those milky white eyes looking at him.

Since she'd come into his life once again, he'd known that she would leave him and he'd tried damn hard to make sure that when they parted this time, he would remain intact, not fall to pieces as he'd done before. Now, he was a hair away from saying he didn't care about any of it anymore. Let her shatter him. At least for the rest of his lonely existence he would have the memory of this time, when he played knight and mentor and friend to the girl who had turned his world end over end so many times he'd lost count.

“Guenevere said she was holding a ball.”

His attention turned to the girl who was cupping one of the exotic flowers in this particular garden to smell it. Her eyes were closed and her expression was serene. “Is she? She has not mentioned it to me.”

Sarah nodded, drawing the flower gently along the skin of her cheek. “She says you should formally introduce me to society or something like that. I don't understand what she means, but it sounds...interesting.” Her brow wrinkled a bit. “Although I doubt I have anything to wear...”

He smiled fondly. “If you wish to attend, arrangements can be made, love.” Her face turned towards him at that word. He didn't apologize for calling her that, as he never had. “Do you like to dance?”

Her brow furrowed. “I...don't know. I think I might, with the right partner.”

He moved towards her, watching her eyes widen a bit as he approached. “Then, pray, will you dance with me, Sarah?” He slipped his hand beneath hers, lifting it to his lips and skimming them gently over her knuckles. “Right here, right now?”

The blush which swept over her cheeks was endearing. “But there's no music-”

He drew her close, setting a hand upon her waist, hearing her breath hitch in her throat. “Of course there is,” he teased playfully. “Just be quiet a moment and listen.” He watched her eyes fall closed and leaned close, whispering against her ear. “The rustle of the leaves, the pulse of the earth beneath your feet, the call of the birds – Oh, yes, darling. My precious thing, there is music...”

Her breath sighed out against his cheek and he breathed her scent deeply. “I lead, you follow...” he said softly, before he began turning her slowly and gently through the garden. As they danced, there was a reconnection that he could almost feel with his whole body. The thunderstruck look on her face said she felt it as well. Her lips were parted innocently, as they'd been in the ballroom so long ago. As they danced, he felt himself pulled further and more assuredly under the spell that was Sarah. “My dear one.” He nearly winced at the longing in his voice.

That sweetly innocent expression, those softly parted lips, eyes that had shown curiosity and confusion. What would they show now? Love? Hatred? He desperately wanted to know that she held a fraction of the longing that he'd held in his heart for her. “Jareth?”

They'd stopped dancing, and he merely held her gently against his chest, tucking his cheek against the top of her hair. “It is nothing, dearest one. Worry not. I am simply...remembering.” He sighed, stroking her hair gently. “So, then, Precious. Do you wish to attend this ball my aunt is determined to throw at my side? Am I a...suitable partner?”

She gave him a mysterious smile. “I think you'll do quite nicely.”

He chuckled, pulling back and looking down into that smile. Slipping a gloved hand carefully against her jaw, he pulled her close and gently kissed her mouth, proud of the restraint he managed to show. When he pulled back, her breath sighed out of her and put a smile on his face. “I think you'd be perfect as well.”


	7. Chapter 7

Jareth had never been the patient sort. He was never particularly fond of waiting around for a woman to go through the painstaking process required to get them presentable for formal functions. Most of the women in the Underground would merely poof on a glamor and be done with it, however, his partner for this particular function was from the Above and had only lessons in basic craft to stand upon.

Which meant she had to do everything in the mundane way. That meant that everything which normally took him five seconds took her three hours. Three, long, painful hours of waiting, while Guenevere and several maids assisted his lady and kept her company.

It did not help matters that his uncle was standing there with a look of unrivaled patience, watching him pace a hole in the floor. “What could possibly be taking so long?”

A wry smile turned up the king's lips, and he tucked his hands behind his back. “Jareth, if I've learned anything by being married as long as I've been, it's that you NEVER ask what takes so long. The ladies have it in their lovely heads that we truly give a damn that they have make up on their faces, scent in all the right spots, and their hair coiffed to perfection. I doubt they realize they could show up to this pretty little Ball my wife has planned in a paper sack and we wouldn't care less as long as we got to dance with them.”

Jareth pondered that picture briefly, remembering that horrid little hospital gown she'd been wearing when her brother had wished her away, and how it had still shown the fullness of her breasts, the curve of her hips and her lovely legs all the way down to those diminutive ankles-

“You'd best retrieve your mind from whatever gutter it just fell in before your lady arrives.”

“Pardon?” Jareth's brain caught up with his uncles words and his face actually flushed. He put up a hand to hide his face. “My mind has not fallen into any gutter...” Yet, he added silently.

“Right, and that's why you're acting like a compass pointing at true north.”

He was discreet in shifting until his coat fell over his pelvis, poorly hiding his current discomfort. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he said as airily as he could manage. He saw the look of dry amusement on the older man's face and blinked in mock innocence. “So...do you care to talk about why it is you and Gwenny are spending so much time apart, Uncle Arty?”

The man scowled at him. “No, boy, I don't care to speak of it. I am making a few difficult choices which you have no business being part of.”

“Lance is giving her a lot of looks he has no business casting in the direction of your queen.” Jareth watched the man sigh, his shoulders sagging a bit. “He wants to bed her.”

“Jareth-”

“There we go, all finished!” Guenevere pushed the door open and drew Sarah from the room. This went far beyond sufficient distraction from the topic he and his uncle were currently discussing.

His throat went dry, his palms began to sweat within his satin gloves. His eyes swept over Sarah and he stepped towards her, as Guenevere stepped out of the way. Gently, he took the ladies hand, turning her so he could see the full view.

The dress was a far cry from the sugar spun monstrosity she'd worn in her dream. It followed the changes in fashion for the Underground, it's tight sleeves hugging her arms from the points on her hands all the way to her bare shoulders. The dark purple silk plunged deep enough to give him a flash of the enchanting freckles which splashed on the tops of her breasts, but still left enough to his imagination to make his mouth water. Around her neck, she wore only that crystal pendant he'd given her, and small earrings of some manner of clear crystal. The skirt was full, but not overstated as the one several years ago had been.

He became aware that she looked a bit nervous and uncertain and forced himself to find his voice. “You look lovely, my dear girl.” He said, kissing the back of her hands.

Her cheeks darkened with a lovely blush and he smiled wryly, glancing towards where his aunt stood with his uncle. Neither looked especially comfortable, and they were avoiding the other's gaze. Oh, there certainly was trouble in paradise. He forced himself to smile, even knowing that the girl whose hands rested in his own could most assuredly feel his discomfort. “Well, is everyone ready, then?”

He promised himself to keep a close watch on his uncle and aunt for the rest of the evening, to find out what exactly was going on with them.

Everyone nodded, Sarah giving him a queer kind of look. Gently, he pulled her arm through his, following behind his aunt and uncle, who had several inches of space between them. He brought his lips close to her ear. “There is something the matter with Gwenny and Arty.”

“They're...bittersweet.” Sarah mumbled. “I...I don't know how to explain it. They're really in love, but they're not...happy.”

He smiled at her keen ability to read them. Yes, her empathy had gotten stronger, likely with help from Caledonensis. “That is a valuable tool you're developing. I pray it remains after your sight and mind return. It would serve you well in the future.” He slipped his free hand along the top of hers. He felt her shiver and the villain in him shuddered in answer. “Enough about them, how do...I feel?”

She gave him a wary glance. Something about it made his blood pulse in wanting. “You feel...” Her lips twitched a bit into a dry smile. “You know...I don't think I should tell you.”

He stared down at her in surprise, and his face cracked into a broad grin. “Sarah, be warned, I've been generous up until now...but I can be cruel...”

Her smile turned into a saucy grin, and she lowered her face to hide it. “Oh? And just how do you intend to punish me for not telling you?”

He tilted his head back and a laugh escaped his throat. “That...will have to remain secret for a time, precious thing. However, I do promise that some day you'll defy me,” he leaned close to her ear, “and I will make you suffer greatly...” He felt her shiver again, and her cheeks turned red with a blush.

He continued leading her through the hall, pretending not to notice as she fanned herself with her free hand in an attempt to cool her warm face before they entered the ballroom. A hush went over the ballroom as they entered. He felt her grow a little tense and knew she could feel the eyes of the people in the room staring at her. He leaned towards her, lowering her voice. “Your will is as strong...” he said softly.

Her face lifted to his and she smiled at him. “Yes,” she agreed. Her hand on his arm tightened slightly and her back straightened. In that moment, she went from awkward girl to regal lady and the other's in the room took notice. His lips curved in a faint, secretive smile as they continued to move forward. Once in the center of the room, and not far from the 'hosting king and queen', the music cued up and he swept her into his arms.

He didn't bother trying to tear his gaze from her face. Her soft lips were curved upward, in a faint smile. Her eyes were obviously lowered, because he could only just see the milky white orbs through her thick, dark lashes. He could catch the faintest dusting of gold colored glitter-dust over her cheeks, the tops of her shoulders, and the swell of her breasts. In the light, it made her seem to shimmer just a bit. He could tell that his aunt had painted her lips a flattering shade of...peach.

He smiled in a feral manner, remembering the dream she pulled him into during the time she ran the Labyrinth. He promised himself that he would taste those tempting little lips when they were not under the scrutiny of half of the city. “What say we gather some information as to why my dear aunt and uncle seem to be having a rough time of it.”

The smile turned mischievous and she arched a brow. “Are you suggesting we eavesdrop on Gwenny and Uncle Arty?”

He chuckled darkly. “I want to know why they're acting like they're on the verge of separation,” he admitted. He saw the woman's lips purse and leaned down, bringing his lips close to her ear, taking pleasure in the way she shuddered slightly. “I lead, you follow?”

“Wherever you wish.” She agreed.

He stilled slightly at her words, before guiding her towards the other couple. He could hear them speaking softly, to each other, his aunt's voice sounding genuinely upset. When they were close enough to hear, the argument was obviously nearly over.

“You don't have to go speak to her tonight. You could wait a day or two. Please, stay with me, darling-”

“Gwen, my first duty is to my country. You know this. I must go as soon as possible. Who knows when word will reach my sister that her deeds have become known. She will flee when she learns, so I must go and collect her before then.”

The song came to an end and Guenevere pressed her face against Arthur's chest, whispering something so quietly that the Goblin King could not hear her. Jareth frowned deeply, stroking Sarah's hair, noting some faint distress from the woman. Slowly, he released Sarah, turning towards his aunt and uncle. “May I have the lady for a dance?” He asked, keeping his tone light and jovial.

Arthur's look was warning, possessive. “Very well.” He eased the woman back. “Then I shall have your partner for one.”

Jareth nodded, knowing his gaze was just as warning and possessive, until his aunt whacked his arm, glaring up at him, even though he detected a well hidden rim of red around them. After Arthur had led Sarah away, he whisked his aunt around the room, grinning at her. “What's eating you, Gwenny?”

She huffed, glaring at him. “Are you trying to pump me for information?”

“Say it how you wish, dear, but I'm not the one who looks like she spent last evening crying. What is wrong?”

She lowered her gaze, looking away. “It's personal, Jareth. And this is very public. Maybe some other time.”

“I'll hold you to that, aunt. I won't forget.”

She sighed, resting her forehead against his shoulder, even as her breath hitched. “I know, Jareth, I know.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

“It's not nice to eavesdrop, Lady Sarah.”

She felt her cheeks warm and she pursed her lips a bit. “Jareth's a bad influence,” she complained, glancing away.

There was a rich laugh from the man. “I suspect that you rather like that about him.”

Sarah smiled, thinking fondly of the man who was acting protective knight, charming prince, and nefarious villain all at the same time. “I suppose I do...” She inclined her head, hearing his laughter ring out across the ballroom, and her smile broadened. “He's...I don't know. I can't remember, but there's something there, just out of reach, and if I could just brush that veil aside, I'd know. Being near him makes it stronger, and I feel like that veil is just as thin as a spider's thread. But I can't breach it. I don't know what I have to do to breach it.”

Her companion hummed softly. “From what Merlin said, that is not surprising. He seems almost certain that Jareth holds the key. Too bad the boy doesn't know what that key is, or he'd have already turned it and brought you back.”

“I...” She smiled a bit. “I'm not so sure. He wants me better, but he...is afraid of my memories returning. I think he...I think he believes I will leave.”

“Wont you?” The remark made her flinch. “Your family is in your own world, no doubt missing you and wondering where you've gone.”

She drew back as the song ended and turned her face away. “I don't know. I...remember the boy. I know the boy is important to me, but I...the others are so faded it's like something from a dream more than something which actually happened. I don't know why.”

A large hand rested gently upon her head. “Child, sometimes, it is better to not worry about things like that. Just be happy that you are hale and whole, and trust that the boy will see you again. Just try not to give Jareth false hope. False hope kills a relationship more soundly than anything else.”

He wasn't looking at her, but he was radiating that bittersweetness.

Sarah frowned a bit, until she heard her name spoken. She turned towards the voice, smiling. “Jareth.”

“Yes, darling. I came across a few of the court who would like to meet you. Sarah, these are Gawain, my cousin and brother to Mordred, who you've met before but neither time was a really proper meeting. Also, this is Lance, a gentleman of the court.” The tone of his voice implied that the word 'gentleman' was used loosely.

A hand scooped up her own and placed a kiss upon her knuckles. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sarah-”

She felt displeasure from her escort and withdrew her hand from the man, contemplating him. He radiated desire, and she had a nasty feeling that he saw her as easy prey. Too many strange sensations were pouring over her from various sources. It was making her feel sick. She unconsciously reached up, gripping the crystal at her throat.

She felt the gaze of the man before a satin gloved hand took hers gently. “Sarah, are you alright?”

“I...need air.” She managed after a moment.

“I will escort you to the garden, my lady.” His tone was gracious, gentle. “Come along, precious.” She felt him gently tug her hand, drawing her towards the large doors which led to the castle gardens. Once they were outside, he pulled her arm through his, and she felt his concern.

She took a gulp of the cool evening air and rested her head upon his shoulder. His hand slipped over hers and she felt the cool satin of his gloves play over her skin. “Thanks, Jareth,” she said quietly. “Suddenly it was just too much. The heat, the emotions rolling off of everyone. I got...nauseous.”

“Yes, well, Lance tends to do that to people.” The voice beside her sounded wry, amused. “Though admittedly, ordinarily men are the ones who feel the effect. It is not pleasant to watch that one attempt to seduce any woman in sight who is spoken for.”

“He encourages adultery?” Even to her, she sounded horrified. “And no one...does anything?”

Her companion sighed and she felt him halt, turning her gently to face him. “He is one of my uncle's best strategic Generals, and when outright told by the woman to back off, he complies. No one has filed a complaint, however if he sets hand on you anymore, I just might.”

She blushed at the implication. “Are you saying I'm spoken for?” She lifted her face, wanted to look at him, but she could see nothing. From him, she could feel anticipation, and that hint of dark swelled up a bit. His fingers touched her face and she realized with a start that the satin no longer separated their skin. The contact sent a jolting tingle straight through her that made her feel warm.

“Not yet.” He said quietly. “I promised your brother I would protect you, which includes from myself. You cannot know who or what I am, love. Until you do, I cannot stake any claim on you.”

She was surprised at the hurt. “What if I didn't mind if you did?” She asked quietly, taking his bare hands and pulling them down from her face, lifting her own so he could see it. “What if...I wanted to see a bit more of that villain you speak of so frequently?”

Something in him changed and she felt herself pressed up against something cold and hard, and his body pressed close to hers, his mouth coming close to her ear and whispering something in a language she didn't understand. She recognized the words, however, from one of the stories he'd read her from the library. His lips repeatedly brushed over the flesh as he spoke, and his hands trailed up her arms and over her bare shoulders, drawing a surprised gasp from her.

His lips brushed over the shell of her ear and she felt his moist tongue slide against the ridges and valleys, before his words became ones she could decipher. “You do not understand, my love what you ask of me. I want you. Ever part of you. I want to hear you moan as I taste every freckle on your body, I want to pierce your innocence and spill my seed within you. I want to have sons and daughters with you. And yet, I want to make you feel every single moment of pain and agony I went through when you left me. Six years of longing, Sarah-mine. Believe me, you do not know of what you ask.”

His words, the feel of his hands running over her skin and dress, his lips and tongue against her ear. Everything about him sent pleasure pooling in her stomach and she found as he drew back that her hands were clutching his jacket for dear life. She also discovered she was trembling like an autumn leaf clinging to it's wind-swept branch, about to fall.

“Damn.” The swear drew her attention and she felt his hands go beneath her elbows, gently supporting her. She felt his brow against her forehead and his nose brush against hers a bit. “Oh, precious, forgive me. It is not my want to frighten you.”

She gently put her hands over his mouth, feeling something coming closer. “Someone's coming.” She whispered.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth gently took Sarah, hiding with her behind the wall, glancing around the corner. Sure enough, Guenevere, who had wandered off after the dance he'd had with her, was drifting through the gardens, looking like a lost waif.

Guenevere was young, a good bit younger than Arthur, although he knew they were madly in love with each other. He'd been at the wedding, and he'd never seen two happier people. Guenevere, who laughed and smiled at her king as though he were the only man in the world.

Jareth would have moved forward, to comfort her, except before he could, Lance stepped from wherever he was hiding, and moved towards her. He moved to stop him, but a hand on his arm stopped him. The hand was too large to be Sarah's, and he turned, finding Arthur there, wearing a sad smile on his face. “Arty-” He whispered softly.

“Lady Guenevere, you look lovely this evening.”

“Greetings to you Lance.” Her voice was quiet, reserved.

“Wherever is that husband of yours?”

Jareth glanced around and found Lance standing inappropriately close to the realm's queen. “You're going to let him seduce your queen?!” He whispered, stunned and upset. “Why?!”

Sarah inclined her head, obviously listening.

“He had to leave the ball early. He has...business...”

“No man should leave such a lovely lady on her own so often. My dear lady, you wander these gardens by yourself most evenings. Should your king not be your companion always?” There was a sneer in the voice, and Jareth wanted to smack the fake smile off of the Lothario's mouth.

Guenevere sighed softly. “The king has much to do, and only so many hours in the day with which to do them. It...It is hardly his fault if he cannot take me on an evening stroll through the gardens.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Lance sidled closer. “If I do not overstep my boundaries, if you were my lady, I would never leave your side.”

Guenevere stood and paced away from him. “My husband loves me and I him.” Her voice was firm.

The man smiled at her, catching her hand. “It was not always, so, however. Once upon a time, you were spell bound by me, claimed to want no other. And then this...Arthur comes along and whisks you away from me. You are mine, Guenevere, you always were.”

Her hand met with his cheek and from where Jareth stood, he could see tears in his aunt's eyes. “This has gone on long enough,” he whispered fiercely. He stepped from the darkened alcove, moving towards them. “Gwenny, is everything alright?”

Lance's eyes flickered towards the young king, and his lips flattened out of their sneer. “Ah, hello, Jareth-”

“That would be your highness if you please,” Jareth said in a cold manner. “I may not be your king, but I'm a king still.” His eyes flickered to his aunt, who looked pale and drawn.

“How much did you hear?” She asked weakly.

He ignored the other male, gently resting a hand upon his aunts head. “Enough. Would you like me to see you to your room, or would you prefer Lance's company?” He watched her pale and lifted his gaze to Lance's smug one. He inclined his head as Guenevere set her hand upon the one he offered to her.

“Thank you, Jareth.”

He began guiding her, pausing only for a moment. “Lance, you may be a favored general, but if I ever catch you wooing a woman you know to be married, engaged, or otherwise involved with another man, I will remove the parts of you with which you are obviously thinking and I wont bother using a knife to do it.” He was rewarded when Lance grew exceptionally pale. Smirking, he led Guenevere over to the alcove where Sarah and Arthur waited.

Guenevere saw her husband looking anywhere but her and lowered her gaze. “I...I was not tempted-”

“You wouldn't be.” Sarah answered. “I...I think someone told me a long time ago...that when you love someone, I mean really love them, then no one will fill the hole left behind when the loved one leaves except that person. I...don't remember who told me, but I remember the words.” She frowned faintly, her brow furrowing. “Dammit, it's right there, and I just can't...”

Jareth passed Guenevere to her husband and moved cautiously towards Sarah. “Don't fret, love. We'll work through this. You will get your memories back. I swear it.” He saw her lower lip tremble and his heart ached. Without another word, he put his arms around her, embracing her gently.

“Gwen, darling...” Arthur said softly. “I...would not have held it against you had you taken him as a lover. I know you are lonely here. Most are too intimidated by your station to try to be your friend, save those who wish to improve their own status, and...I'm rarely here.”

Her face jerked up and she stared at him, dumbstruck. “You...” Her hand lifted, cracking across his cheek. Jareth felt Sarah jump and had to admit a bit of surprise and grudging respect for the woman who was his aunt. “You unbelievable prick! Did you think that laying with that...that...”

“Disease ridden man-whore?” Sarah offered.

Three sets of eyes stared at her, shocked, before a strangled giggle left Guenevere's throat. “Yes, precisely.” She looked up at her husband, eyes still filled with mirth. “Do you really think that he could fill the loneliness that I feel when you are gone? That his body would bring mine any relief? If you truly believe that, you are a fool, husband of mine.”

Arthur gave a faint, warm smile, embracing the woman gently. “I suppose...I can leave it up to the guards to capture Morghaine.” He looked at Jareth, his face serious. “I must take her and give her a trial. She is too far gone for anything else. I spoke to Mordred. Fifty years, Jareth, two or more most years, and who knows how many before she enlisted Mordred's aid.”

Jareth nodded, stroking Sarah's hair gently. “I know.” He looked at his aunt and uncle. “My kingdom has been without it's king long enough. I must return to the Goblin Kingdom on the morrow. Who knows what manner of mess those brats have caused at this point. I was only supposed to be gone a few days.” He smiled wryly, seeing the wince on his aunt and uncles face.

“Well, in case we do not see you in the morning, safe journey, Jareth.” Arthur extended his hand, and Jareth shook it, nodding.

Jareth gave the pair a speculative grin, arching an eyebrow. “What was it you told me the other day? Oh yes: try not to make too much noise.”

He saw the shock settle over their faces and decided that directly transporting himself and the chuckling Sarah to her room would be prudent. Once they were in the privacy of her chambers, she dissolved into helpless giggles and they both collapsed on the floor, laughing like fools.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Sarah actually felt a little sad as they hugged Guenevere and Arthur goodbye. Caledonensis placed a comforting hand upon her head and murmured words in an unfamiliar language while Jareth over saw the packing of the palanquin. Mordred shook her hand in parting, and whispered an apology to her once more.

Jareth finally returned to her side, helping escort her away. She paused a moment, focusing on Guenevere for a long moment before that wonderfully enigmatic smile turned up her lips as he helped her down the stairs. She felt Jareth's lips brush against her ear as he spoke. “Love, you look positively mysterious right now. What is going on in that delightful brain of yours?”

She pursed her lips a bit, glancing towards Jareth. “What would you say if I told you that the lady is expecting?”

She sensed his dumbfounded shock and then amusement. “I would say that Arthur is going to have his hands full for quite some time.” His voice was dry, laced with good humor. “You didn't tell them.”

“It's not my place. Besides, I'd hate to give them fair warning.”

He barked out a laugh even as he helped her into the lavish, covered cart, and was still laughing as they began moving. “Darling, you are as wicked as I am, dare I say. That is positively evil.”

She shrugged faintly, smiling as she leaned her head comfortably on his shoulder. She felt a brief shock and then he relaxed, his arm going around his shoulders, holding her close. His hand gently pet her hair, and she felt his lips against the crown of her head. The warmth of his breath ruffled her hair and she felt a strange sensation in her chest, a curious warmth that had blossomed more and more with the time she'd spent with the Goblin King. With a sigh, she burrowed into his side, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of his heart beating.

Jareth smiled as she snuggled into him and wrapped his other arm around her as well, gently petting her hair from her face. How he loved this naive little woman-child. So wonderful in her mischief, so cruel in her innocence. He closed his eyes, breathing her scent deeply as she breathed his own, her slender arm thrown around his stomach. It was a pleasure to hold her like that, all the way back to his own kingdom.


	8. Chapter 8

Jareth knew something was not quite right as soon as he entered his home. Sarah went oddly still, her lips turned down into a deep frown. At this point, it didn't surprise him. She was growing more sensitive to her environment every day, her fantastic ability to sense the feelings others felt giving her an edge which would be unexpected and formidable.

Pursing his lips a bit, he peered around the entryway, pulling Sarah slightly behind him, shielding her with himself. Once he was three steps in, a goblin appeared, looking frightened and worried. His eyes sharpened on the creature and it moved towards him, scrambled up his side and put it's mouth near his ear.

“The mean lady is here...and the red-head.”

Those pursed lips turned into a deep frown. “Take lady Sarah to her room. I will go deal with...” A hand gripped his sleeve and he found Sarah looking blindly past him, down the hall.

“Jareth, darling, is that you? The goblins all started acting a up, so I thought you might be-” The women came around a corner into the entryway, and stared, dumbstruck at the Goblin King, and his companion, both of whom at this point were crawling with goblins.

Jareth was pleased by the shock on his mother's face. He knew she'd have expected Sarah to be dead by now. Did the woman think that he would take whatever dregs she brought him as a consolation prize? “Hello, mother.” He kept his tone cool, impersonal. His eyes drifted over towards her companion, once again, Alura, the red-head with extravagant taste and the inability to tell that he wanted to break her neck every time she opened her mouth. He glanced towards Sarah, finding her wearing a serene expression on her face as she gently pet the head of one of the goblins which clung to her.

“I...didn't realize you had company coming home with you.” Her voice was sour, petulant.

“I didn't realize I had company waiting,” he said wryly. Had he known, he would have never come through the front door. He would have come in the back way, gotten Sarah to her room, and then gone into hiding himself for at least part of the evening. He could have shared dinner with his lady in the small sitting room in their wing. He fixed the woman with a mild look. “What are you doing here, mother?”

“It has been nearly a month since my last visit, I thought you might enjoy company from your dear mother...and Alura wanted to see you again-”

He looked from his mother to her companion with cool indifference. “Well you thought-”

A hand gently laced through his. Sarah's hand. “There is no reason your mother and her companion should be sent away. It's late if my estimation is correct, and there is nothing wrong with being kind now and then.” He glanced towards her, finding those milky white eyes trained on the women down the hall. Her face was calm, although he detected the faintest tremor of discomfort in her. 

He sighed, lifting her hand and brushing a soft kiss against her knuckles. “My lady has spoken,” he said wryly, noting the flash of jealousy in Alura's eyes and the enraged expression on his mother's. He glanced towards the goblins, arching a brow. “See to it that dinner is prepared in the informal dining room. I'll expect a full report on whatever mischief you all have gotten on while I was away.”

The goblin bared his teeth and he and the others scrambled away, including the one which had clung to Sarah like a babe to it's mother. They chattered, making faces and slapping their backsides as they passed the two women standing several paces away from him and Sarah.

Jareth peered at his mother and Alura from beneath his brows. “Have you been shown your rooms?”

“I was wondering if Alura or I might use the queen's suite for our stay.”

He gave a smile that he knew was terrifying. “Are either you or Alura my queen?” His voice was mild, but he saw the fear that passed over his mother's face at his expression. Alura, air-headed little Alura, did not even notice he had the look of a predator on his face.

Sarah noticed. Her gaze sharpened on him and her hand in his tightened a fraction.

“Well, no. However, the rooms have been empty for so long. It surely would not harm to have someone stay in that room-”

“I'm afraid it's impossible.” He kept his voice placid, ignoring the indignation on the courtier's face. “Since that is the suite closest to mine and Sarah is under my protection, she has been staying in it since her arrival in the Underground.” The startled expression on his mother's face pleased him more than her fear. “Come along, precious. It was a long trip and your health is not fully recovered.” He pulled her arm through his, and he led her down the hall, past his mother and Alura.

She actually trembled as she passed the two women, but her steps did not falter and she gave no outward sign of her distress.

“You two may take rooms in the guest wing. Free pick so to speak.” He kept his voice light, not betraying his fury with the woman. However, once he escorted Sarah to her room and entered his own, he allowed himself to drop the facade, practically tearing his traveling cloak off and heaving it to the floor, his body shaking with his fury.

How dare she?

How dare his mother arrive, pretending that he had not been furious with her when they last spoke, just after Sarah's arrival into his care? How dare she bring that woman into his home, imply that she should be allowed to sleep in the suite which had been destroyed and remade for the woman who currently slept in them?

He took a damp cloth, mopping his face and neck, throwing it down with a wet 'plop'. Sarah and her growing ability to sense the feelings of those around her. She'd noticed the intense dislike wafting off of the two women likely as easily as she could sense the calm she brought him. He knew that she sensed what he felt. Now and then her face took on this nervous expression, her scent slightly flavored by unease, fear. It happened whenever he was feeling particularly predatory towards her.

He'd been feeling more and more predatory towards her since that night of the ball. The invitation in her words had been blatant, obvious. As she was now, she wanted him to stake some manner of claim on her, and his own instincts were screaming that he needed to do just that. During their trip, she'd snuggled him nearly the entire way, showing a deep trust in him, yet every time he started to feel possessive, she'd get a bit wary.

“Darkness help me...” He ran a hand through his wild hair, taking a deep breath.

“Jareth-” There was a knock at the door which led to the hall and it opened, revealing Alura, wearing what he supposed she considered an inviting expression. “I was wondering if I could help you work the soreness from your muscles.” She squeezed her arms in such a way to press her breasts in to greater prominence. “I promise it's something I'm very good at...”

The innuendo was blatantly obvious and didn't even have an air of subtlety in it. He felt anger and hatred swell within him. With his lady in the next room? Was this foolish child that daft?!

She pushed off of the entrance she'd been leaning against and took that last step into his room. “So what do you say?”

“Did my mother put you up to this, or are you so deluded that you honestly think that I want to mount you, you imbecile?” He was amazed his voice held that cold disregard. He could feel the anger swelling up inside him, pushing him.

A moment later, another face appeared in his doorway. “Is something-” Sarah stood there, frowning. Her head inclined slightly, and he knew she was feeling the currents of emotion coming from in the room from where she stood. “Jareth, is everything alright?”

“Yes, Sarah,” he said, fixing Alura with a cold stare. “Alura was just leaving.”

Alura glared at Sarah with undisguised malevolence, a little surprised when Sarah snarled at her fiercely. She glanced at him, pouted indignantly and then bolted out of the room. She moved past Sarah, bumping into the young lady in a manner which could only be intentional, knocking Sarah off balance.

He watched her catch herself on the wall, and he was at her side a moment later, helping her straighten. “Sarah-”

“She's got the feel of a spurned lover.” Her voice was quiet.

He snorted. “I never mounted that bitch,” he said coolly. “My standards for a mate are higher than that.”

She inclined her head, seeming to ponder something. “You were very angry that she was in your room.”

He sighed softly, closing the door to his room and moving to the small sitting room between them. He helped Sarah into a seat and restlessly stripped out of the leather long-coat he'd been wearing, tossing it into the opposite chair. He waved the door closed, putting a muffling spell on the room to keep eavesdroppers at bay. “Yes, Sarah. I was angry. In fact, angry was a gross understatement. I was beyond fury. Had you not arrived when you did, she would have met the same fate as the last fool who decided to enter my chambers. That room is my haven from women, and having women in there...brings out some passionate violence in me.”

She nodded, looking uncertain. “I...understand needing to have a place where others aren't allowed. I...I think I had a place like that.”

He saw her shaking and knew his continued upset frightened her. With a soft sigh, he moved towards her, sitting back on his heals and holding her hands gently. “You did. Your bedroom in the Above. For a very long time you did not permit anyone to set foot within it. Someone doing so...is actually how we met.” He saw the hunger for knowledge on her face and knew he could tell her, but he did not want to change her opinion of him, nor of herself. “You'll remember soon...”

“You say that a lot, and I do remember more, but...it's more like feelings, nothing firm. Jareth,” she lifted her milky gaze, looking miserable, “what if I never remember?”

He closed his eyes, cupping her cheeks and drawing her close. He rested his forehead against hers, taking in her soothing presence, using it to wipe those last traces of fury from himself. “You will, love. And if you don't...then I suppose I'll just take care of you forever...” He saw something in her eyes – wariness or hope, he wasn't certain.

“Why?”

He sighed softly, cupping her face between his hands. “You're not ready to hear that yet. You...the you who is here now does not know all of me.”

Her eyes lowered. “I...sense that you feel affection for me. And something darker, a little frightening. I know you care, so why wont you tell me?”

He felt himself warm under her words, pulling her into his arms and embracing her gently. “Because I do not wish you to make decisions now that you may regret once your memories have returned.” He pressed a gentle kiss upon her head and sighed, one of his hands gently petting her soft hair. He lowered is lips, putting them near her ear. “Do not place your trust in these women who have come here. Alura sees you as a rival and my mother has cause to harm you. Please, darling, take care around them.”

She nodded slightly, turning her face and gently kissing his jaw, lightly.

That motion brought the predator inside him into sharp relief and he tightened his grip on her slightly, then pulled away from her. “Can you get to your room, precious?”

Slowly, she nodded. There was that wariness in her expression again, but she didn't look afraid.

He kissed both of her hands, then released her, returning to his own room, hopefully clearing his mind of all of these potentially hazardous thoughts before he was in Sarah's presence once again.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Sarah rested for several hours during the day, and enjoyed a small snack of fruit provided by a goblin who climbed up on her shoulder and told her stories about the goblins in the kingdom. He was a friendly type and identified himself as Gibble. In some ways, it reminded her of the boy, the one Jareth called Toby, her brother. She wasn't certain why, but knowing that made her feel a bit sad.

The goblin had been keeping her company for quite awhile before she felt another presence in the room. She gave a half turn, holding the goblin in her lap. The goblin gave a startled hiss, seeming to be ready to lunge towards the other person. Sarah tightened her grip on the small creature, sensing something not quite right about this presence in her room. “Who's there?”

“So, your sixth sense is growing prominent. How long have you been without sight?”

The voice was warm, but there was an underlying strangeness in the feeling she got from this woman. Then, her mind matched the voice with a name. “You are Jareth's mother...” She lowered her gaze, remembering the woman's words. “Awhile. I've been here for about a month now.”

“A whole month? Have you been before the courts? It's required of immigrants.”

She frowned faintly, trying to sense the woman's emotions, but something strange seemed to be going on. It was as if everything was so muddled that she couldn't really feel anything. Either that or there was some kind of spell twisted around her, hiding what she felt. “Jareth said something like that when I first came here. He also said it didn't apply to me.”

“Oh, that's a pity.” The woman sounded sincere. “Then he must not intend for you to stay.”

Something icy cold formed in Sarah's stomach and she felt a twinge of pain. Quickly, she looked away from the woman, trying to not let those words affect her. Jareth told her to not trust this woman. She had to trust him on this. “Jareth is not making demands, he is trying to let me make my own decisions. Since I come from the Above, I'm sure he thinks it would only be natural for me to wish to return.”

There was a flash of annoyance, no doubt due to her nearly complete lack of response. There was also an underlying hatred towards her. “And do you?”

She frowned faintly. “I don't know how I'll feel once my memories return.” Which was the reason Jareth kept the distance between them that he did. Good grief, even blind, she could tell he looked at her with a heat that caused her equal parts fear and exhilaration. Yet besides the seductive warning he'd given her in Avalon and the handful of chaste kisses he'd bestowed upon her, he left her untouched. The thought of leaving him physically hurt her heart, but from the way he acted, that could change once her memories returned to her.

She clutched the bodice of her dress, just below the crystal pendant he'd given her so she could call upon him. “I must ask you to leave, madame. I suppose I will see you later, however.”

Once she was alone again, she lay her head back, turning her face towards the warm light that came from the window. Moisture ran down her face, and she lifted a hand, brushing away her tears.

“Why's the lady cryin'?”

The voice of the goblin drew her attention back to him. She gave him the best smile she could and gently pet the creatures downy hair. “It's nothing, Gibble. It's nothing.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Morgaine looked down at the carefully planned illusion she held in her grasp. The invitation would not go ignored. She knew that much. The girl was gullible, and Morgaine could taste the hope within her. Hope that the Goblin King cared for her as more than a charge. The problem Morgaine faced was that her foolish son did care for her.

He cared far more than he let on to that stupid little twit.

Yet, even the Goblin King had his boundaries. Alura had pushed those boundaries this week, had only avoided an abrupt trip to the healer due to the interference of that mortal wretch. She activated the illusion and walked away, knowing that the stupid fool would fall for this trap because her son was the bait, and Jareth would terrify the girl into leaving him when she took took that bait.

Once the girl was no longer under the protection of her son, she would take care of this Sarah once and for all.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

The week was a nightmare.

Jareth stared out of the window, over his kingdom, his hands tucked at the small of his back. His mother was hiding her truest self, and it has Sarah very confused, very upset. Alura continually tried to get into his bed, kept issuing invitations to hers. He'd been riding his temper the whole of the week, and it hadn't faded.

He knew they were trying to get Sarah out of the way and so he'd been keeping a close watch on his beloved for the entire visit. He was exhausted, his already short temper was straining against the leash he had on it. He sighed, watching the carriage carry his mother and that awful wretch Alura out of sight.

Finally, there was a chance to be alone with Sarah, to have her cleanse the anger which still raced through him. The sooner the better, he decided, smiling faintly, and heading off to find his precious thing. She'd once again taken to wandering, usually in the company of whatever goblin wanted her attention for that particular day. That was an unexpected bonus. His mother and Alura seemed to detest the rather mischievous creatures, and since they were sticking close to 'the lady', it meant that neither of those who saw fit to interfere could get close to her.

He summoned a crystal, asking to see Sarah. What he saw caused that passionate temper to strain and snap the leash he held upon it.

He vanished from where he stood, appearing directly in front of the girl, every door in his bedroom slamming shut, sealing her in. The girl let out a yelp and her eyes were the size of dish plates. “Sarah...” He snarled, noting the scent of fear that rose in her as she backed away from him. “You are not supposed to be in here.” He stalked towards her, watching as she scrambled back, her breasts rising and falling beneath her chemise as her breaths raced in and out of her.

“But...you...” Her brow creased with confusion. “You told me to!”

He pinned her against the wall, leaning close to her, bringing his nose close to her neck, smelling where that smell of indignation and fear emanated. Had he been more aware of what was going on, more aware of her words, he might have questioned what she meant by that. Unfortunately, this awful, stressful, anger-filled week had taken it's tole and the villain within him broke free, whispering to him that she deserved every scrap of suffering he extracted from her for breaking this one...simple...rule.

He rested his weight on his elbow to keep him close to her, to pin her against the wall of his room. His other hand rested lightly against the wall. He could see the moment she realized she was trapped, watched the little crystal pendant bounce it's rapid tattoo over her heart. He licked his lips and purred faintly. “You were warned...”

“What?” She was rigid against him. Her fear intoxicated the villain inside him and he smirked darkly, bringing his lips against her ear before he spoke again.

“You were warned to never enter my chambers, Sarah...”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

((AN: Hence forth from this chapter is smut. You've been warned.))

She shivered when his lips brushed against her ear as he spoke. Her throat tried to close and she swallowed reflexively, trying to calm her racing heart. “Forgive me...” She whispered, feeling her back come into contact with the hardness of the stone wall. She was pinned. “Please...” She felt no shame in begging, and at the moment she was very fearful of this man, a man she thought she could trust – a man she wanted to trust.

She felt his heat, smelled his intoxicating scent as had he leaned towards her – she tilted her face up, her lips parting as she stared blindly at him, feeling helpless and trapped. She felt his breath upon her face and his hand, which felt feverishly hot, came to rest at her waist. Her heart rate spiked further when he used that grip to pull her intimately close to him. Now her throat did close, even as her lips parted ever so slightly.

She felt his thigh against the outside of hers and wondered what he thought he was doing. Suddenly, his breath rushed across her face and she swallowed hard, realizing how close his face must be to her own. Again he spoke. “You must suffer the consequences of your actions, precious...”

Her hands came up, instinctively, however at this point she wasn't certain she wanted to push the man away or pull him closer. She was wonderfully excited, but she couldn't deny the shiver of terror which ran through her. She could feel his skin beneath her hands and found she couldn't quite keep them still. His skin was smooth, and hot and he felt good. Better than good, really. 

Suddenly, his mouth was on hers, seeking, demanding, pressing her head and shoulders back into the wall even as his arm stole around her waist, holding her lower body firmly against his own. A thrill of pleasure rushed through her when she felt what kissing her was doing to him. His other hand came to cradle the back of her head, his fingers laced through her hair. She clutched his shoulders desperately, her nails biting at his flesh.

An inhuman sound left his throat and his tongue met with the seam of her lips before pressing between them, forcing her mouth open. She let him, returning his kiss with as much passion as he gave. His hands began roving over her body and she felt her blood heat, desire burning through her, wiping away the last traces of fear.

“Mine.” His voice rasped softly as he pulled back for a moment to catch his breath. At any other moment, Sarah might have disagreed. However, there was something in her mind telling her that this man she couldn't even see was making her feel things she'd never felt before. Heaven help her, he was right. She was his.

She caught two fist fulls of his silken hair and used it to haul his mouth to hers again. She kissed him, trying to convey her answer, trying to make him see what she wanted. That sound rumbled from his chest again and his hands gripped her hips, lifting her off the floor ever so slightly. His hands coaxed her legs to wrap around him and she broke the kiss. She could feel the heat running to her face when she felt the evidence of his own desire pressed intimately against her.

“Sarah...” He breathed. “Say I can have you or I shall go mad.” He whispered, his hands sliding over her body cupping her bottom, even as he held her against the wall.

Her head fell back to the cold stone and she panted for breath. “I...” She closed her eyes, trying to focus on something, anything. All she could feel, however, was the contrast between his hot body and hands and the cool stone behind her. “Have me.” She finally whispered, bringing her lips blindly to his face and kissing all over it. “Have me, Jareth. Have all of me.”

He spun her away from the wall, crossing the room with several long strides before she felt the softness of a mattress beneath her. He gripped the front of the chemise she wore and his hands gripped either side of the collar, ripping it. She gasped, startled at the violence of the motion. A moment later, however, she felt his hands skimming over her now bare flesh and she arched into him, throwing her head back as his lips burned a path down her throat.

Those wicked lips brushed across her collarbone, chasing his own fingers. Her breath shuddered out of her, followed by a deep moan as fingertips swept down over the swell of her breasts, chased by what she could only guess to be his tongue. One hand cupped and fondled her, even as his lips settled down on the peak to tease and thrill her. The other began echoing the same motions at her other nipple, tugging in time with his skilled mouth. She cried out weakly, clinging to him in desperation. “Jareth...” She begged softly, pressing herself against him. Something inside her was awakening. It was something she'd periodically felt when dealing with this man, whenever their passions had fought against each other. Like the veil on her memories was being swept aside by his long fingers.

His mouth moved to her other breast and that hand swept down, playing over her stomach, down as far as her navel. She felt a finger begin slipping in and out of her belly button and her mouth ran dry. “Oh god...” She whispered.

She felt his lips curve into a smile against her and his hands slipped over the skirt of her chemise to the cleft of her thighs, slipping between them, lightly playing against her, the fabric the only barrier between his flesh and her own. She twisted her legs around his own, crying out to him as he caressed her with his hands and mouth. She felt like she was on fire – he was burning her.

Her hands gripped his head, pulling him up so she could meet his mouth with her own. She demanded entry into his mouth, and suddenly, his hands tore the garment open fully, and his bare chest came down to rest upon hers. One hand plunged between her legs, his fingers sliding over her slick folds. The feeling of his hands upon her there nearly sent her over the edge. His lips slid with deliberate skill over hers, setting the pace even as she tried to encourage him to go faster.

A sob choked her when she felt a finger slid wetly inside her and she arched her body against him, crying out in desperation, even as his tongue entered her mouth. She heard his feral growl and his lips began sweeping a burning trail across her cheek, along her jaw and over her chin. When they met with her pulse and his tongue darted out to caress it, she whimpered in need. “Jareth, please...”

Another finger slid against her opening before the first drew back and both entered. She threw her head back, clinging to the man. She set her nails into the back of his neck and heard him chuckle faintly in amusement before his teeth lightly bit the side of her neck. The feeling of his teeth on her skin caught her by surprise and intense pleasure flooded her.

With a growl of her own, which didn't sound quite as formidable coming from her throat, she used a move she didn't know she knew and found herself atop the Goblin King. She wrenched the chemise off of her body, and pulled his hands away from her, baring her teeth at him. She heard his panted breaths, even as he lay passively beneath her, letting her pin him to the bed by his wrists. A wild smile turned up her lips and she gave a brief, victorious laugh. 

Leaning down, she kissed his face, missing his mouth completely, her lips landing on his chin. He didn't seem to mind, as his hands fisted with her own. Deliberately, she slid her lips over his chin and down his neck, feeling the muscles on his neck tighten as she lightly brushed over the pulse in his neck.

“By the darkness, woman...” He gasped as she slid farther down him, her lips brushing lightly over his chest, meeting with his nipples. She kissed and sucked on them, listening to him rasp out words in several languages, some she recognized, some she didn't. Finally, she released his hands, sliding her own along his torso, mesmerized by the feel of his smooth skin. She felt the top of his breeches and ran her hand along the top, finding them untied and loosened. She kissed her way down to his belly button, sliding his pants down, her fingers briefly pulling at smooth flesh before she pressed a soft kiss to his hip, which ripped another feral snarl from his lips.

“Sarah, you're playing with fire...” He rasped, even as he let her push his pants off. She ignored him, kissing the inside of his thigh. She ran her fingers lightly over him before wrapping her hand around him fully. He cried out in surprise and she felt his hand grip her wrist. “Sarah-”

She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against the head. His hand fell away and she heard him moan something in a language she didn't understand. Something moist touched her lips and she drew back, licking them. Whatever it was tasted a bit salty and she blushed, realizing after a brief moment what it was. She rested a hand upon his hip, then leaned forward, running her tongue lightly over him. A vicious-sounding word left his lips and she sighed in contentment. She hesitated for another moment before she put her mouth on him, sucking softly as she pulled back.

A sharp cry came from the man beneath her and she felt his hands grip her shoulders. “Sarah...” He moaned, his voice sounding raw. “If you continue this-”

She closed her teeth down around him, and another cry left him. She brought her free hand up, caressing the sack between his legs and the one she'd rested upon his hip found his own hand and she gave it a tender squeeze. But she didn't stop.

In scarcely a minute, the man let out a moan, which turned to a cry that ended with considerable volume and he spilled his seed in her mouth. She gagged softly, but swallowed it so it would fall upon his sheets.

Moments later, she found herself between him and the bed again, his mouth upon hers with bruising pressure. She let him ply her mouth open and his hands slid over her. She felt as though he were worshiping her with lips and tongue and fingertips. “Sarah...” he whispered, his lips close to her ear. “You minx...” She felt him smile broadly against her mouth and then suddenly, his hands were on her hips and he was kissing her belly button. She gasped, blushing darkly as he held her firmly against the mattress.

She quivered as his hands slid over her legs, pulling them over his shoulders. “Jareth?” she asked nervously.

She didn't have an opportunity to speak again, as his lips met with the cleft of her thighs, one hand spreading her lips as his other sought her entrance, two fingers sliding inside of her. She dug her head back into the mattress, her throat closing. Weakly, she cried out, her own hands spearing into his hair, simultaneously pushing him away and pulling him closer. Her head tossed back and forth as his tongue stroked her outside and his fingers stroked within. She was rapidly losing coherency and blamed the man who was causing the intense pleasure for what she could see as nothing more than insanity. Those fingers inside her began to curl against the top wall and the pleasure sharpened, focused.

She arched into his mouth and hand, his name on her lips as she came apart and completely undone.

By the time she came down, he was leaning over her – she could feel his hair tickling her face. Somehow, she knew he was smiling without seeing him. Her breasts heaved as she tried to catch her breath, but before she could, she could feel him press against her once again. Her eyes widened dramatically and her lips parted in surprise. “Jareth...?”

“I'm afraid your suffering isn't over yet...”

His voice was teasing, yet strained. His lips came down to meet with her own as he sheathed himself within her. There was no pain, but she cried out regardless, in surprise, in desire. She wrapped her arms tightly around him as he began to set the pace, sliding in and out of her. She was burning again. Each thrust of his hips against hers sharpened the pleasure she felt. She pressed up to meet him, swallowing his moans with her mouth, as he swallowed her own with his.

His hands roamed over her as though he were memorizing the feel of her skin, the curves of her body and hers echoed his movements, sliding over his back, enjoying each ridge of muscle she touched. “Jareth...” She moaned desperately, digging her head back into the mattress as she drug her nails across his skin.

He hissed softly, in pain, and she felt him bite down on her neck, putting far more pressure than he had before. A cry left her and before she realized she was at the edge, he heaved her over, and followed after, that voice rasping words in a strange language against her ear. They came down slowly together, and when her mind cleared, Sarah found herself being cradled lovingly against his strong chest. She could still feel him within her, as though he did not want to pull away from her. Blushing, she leaned up, kissing the underside of his jaw gently.

A soft chuckle left him and his lips pressed against the top of her head. “Precious one...” He breathed, his hands combing through her hair gently.

She blushed, hiding her face against his chest. He managed to sound so pleased, so possessive. “My king...” She couldn't keep her tone from being possessive as his own. She felt his lips curve into a smile and there was a contented sigh from the man who held her gently. Her head felt open, clear for the first time in weeks. As she drifted off to sleep, Jareth spoke again.

“Yes, darling...” He murmured softly, and she felt his cheek rub gently against her head. “Forever.”


	9. Chapter 9

Sarah had fallen asleep soon after that. Jareth had not. He lay there, holding her as she slept, basking in her presence in his room, in his bed. At least this little event told him how he would react should she enter his chambers. He had smirked in wry amusement at the thought, had simply lay there, petting her soft, naked skin until her scent, the sound of her breaths, slowly had him drifting off as well.

Morning seemed to come too soon, in the form of a painfully bright beam of light hitting him on one side of his face. He groaned, turning his face away from the light. He must have forgotten to close his curtains last evening, he decided. He tried to ignore it, wishing to return to the dreams he'd been having. Pleasant dreams where Sarah foolishly wandered into his room and spend the whole of the evening in his bed, moaning and pleading for him.

Of course it was a dream. It simply wasn't possible that the girl would disobey a command like that, although she'd had always loved to defy him. Just as he finally began to doze off once more, warmth settled over him, giving him an inviting kiss. That kiss invited the villain in him to come out to play while he was still too tired to fight it. Something inside him relaxed, rather than growing tense with anger, even as two hands gripped his wrists, and he felt himself pinned to the bed. Still, the sensation of being captive caused him enough annoyance that his eyes snapped open and he growled at whoever was man-handling him.

Not man-handling, he decided when he realized that brilliant, beloved green eyes stared back down at him, dazzling, defiant, mischievous-familiar. His heart pounded in his chest, eyes widening in surprise at finding that gaze peering down into him in such a manner. He glanced down, finding her kneeling, leaning over him, poised over him. He moaned and throbbed in response, eyes falling completely closed when her moist entrance came in contact with the tip of him. “Sarah...” He rasped out, gripping her knees.

Her lips grazed his cheek and she spoke softly, even as she lowered herself down onto him. “We...need to talk, Goblin King.” His eyes snapped open to stare up at her in disbelief. Surely she didn't think they were going to talk now. If she did, he was going to remove her ability to speak completely. He was moments away from flipping them so that he was in control when she bared her teeth in a vicious smile, her hands tightening at his wrists, pressing them harder into the soft mattress. “But not right now.”

Her lips came down on his, and she kissed him how he'd kissed her the night before, her lips demanding, daring him to challenge her. Her tongue slipped inside his mouth when his mouth opened in a moan – responding to her body sliding down to take the last of him into her. She tore her mouth from his, squeezing his wrists tighter still, holding him pinned against his own bed. Those green eyes met his, wild, feral and she dared him to fight her, her swollen lips in an equally wide grin.

He wanted to meet her challenge, to struggle, but he couldn't, didn't want to. Rather than fight against her, he tilted his head back, baring his throat in submission. “Precious...”

That grin broadened and she dipped her head, her teeth gently clamping onto the flesh of his throat. He felt her tongue run over the skin and moaned, arching into her. It was a very good thing that she didn't want to talk right now. He was more than fairly certain that any attempt he made at speech would come out incoherent, gibberish at best. That idea was affirmed when she pulled back, scraping her teeth along his skin and lifted her face to look down at his. Those beautiful eyes, those wonderful, glittering, defiant, green eyes...how he loved them.

“Well then...” she said, her tongue coming out and licking her lips as she leaned down to kiss him once more. “Enjoy the ride...”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth thoroughly enjoyed the ride, if Sarah said so herself. Now, he lay dozing once more, in a boneless sprawl beside her, one arm around her, resting possessively upon her waist. His thin lips were curled up in the faintest smile, his wild hair disheveled, no doubt from how she couldn't keep herself from playing with it.

Sarah, meanwhile, just stared at his sleeping face, still caressing that rumpled hair, reassuring both of them of the other's presence. Now and then, even in his sleep, the arm he had tossed over her waist would tense, pulling her closer, until he rose from his sleep enough to realize she was still there, then he would drift off once more.

As she lay in his arms, watching the face of her lover sometimes twisting into adorably juvenile expressions. He had some rather endearing habits when he slept. Now and then, his nose would wrinkle as though he smelled something bad, his lips would purse, and then split into a smile. Over all, it was far more fun watching him than contemplating sleep. Besides, her mind was too busy racing as she lay there.

She could remember. Everything was there, not just her time since she'd been cursed, not just her life before. Everything. Including how she'd wound up here, the events leading up to her waking up in the arms of the Goblin King.

Jareth.

It was a thing of wonder to her, waking up like this. She'd stared at Jareth for a long time after her initial waking, her mind reeling when she realized she could see his face in the dim light coming through the curtains. She'd wanted to wake him then, just to see if he was really there, but she stopped.

Now, tears gathered in her eyes as she stared at his face. Stubbornly, she blinked them away, her lips curling in a smile. She could remember how he'd been wonderful to her, patient, caring. She knew that until last evening, the villain that was an intrinsic part of him had remained mostly hidden. Now and then it popped out, rearing it's seductive head, but he'd tried to protect her and quite probably, himself as well.

He'd been afraid of her memory returning, afraid of her leaving him, and she knew it. She understood why, as well. She'd never had to prove to him that she valued him. He'd proven to her again and again, how he valued her, even last evening, when he'd been furious with her, he'd treated her so carefully. He'd tried for so long to contain that darker part of himself, the part of him that had frightened her – intrigued her – when she was fifteen, the part of him who she know understood held the key to herself.

She was the most like herself when she was battling against him and they both knew it. He'd gone a month hiding that part of him, not because it would return her memory, but because he didn't want her only memories of him to be of the him he thought she didn't care for.

The leash snapped last night. He had scared her a bit, but she loved him. She trusted him. Never, in all of their time together had he harmed her, not even when he played the antagonist in the story. She didn't think he had it in him to harm her. He would always be a little dark, sometimes a bit frightening, but those were some of the things she'd always loved about him. Part of the reason that she'd always craved him. No one in the Above could walk in both the shadows and light in equal measure.

The sunlight hitting one side of his face had shown her his two halves at once and he'd been so beautiful, caught between dark and light that she'd wanted him.

To her surprise, he'd let her have him. He'd bared his throat to her, giving her complete control. She knew he could have broken her grip on his wrists easily enough, had dared him to, yet he'd remained pinned by her on his silk-covered bed while she ravished him.

Again.

She blushed, a shy smile turning up her lips. Oh, she was certain she could happily stay right there where she lay forever, snuggled up to the side of the man who made her feel things that she'd almost come to believe she could no longer feel. No man in her realm had ever aroused her heart, mind, and body like this man did. Even when she'd been without her memories, she somehow knew that.

She propped up on her elbow, looking down at the peaceful face of her lover. Gently, she brushed a crumpled tendril of his hair from his cheek, smiling softly down at him. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

As he woke, his nose scrunched up like a child's and his mouth opened in a wide yawn, which he hid behind his hand. Those mismatched eyes sleepily opened, still heavy, and his lips began to pull into a smile, only to freeze, slipping away. His eyes sharpened, his expression grew wary. “Sarah...”

He must not have realized that this morning wasn't just a dream. She cupped her free hand against his cheek, giving him a small smile. “Jareth.”

His hand lifted, fingers lightly touching the corner of her eye. He licked his lips before he spoke, which made her want to kiss him. “Your sight-” he whispered, his voice cracking a bit.

She nodded, turning her face and lightly kissing his palm. “I've been watching you for awhile. All morning really. Since before...” Heat crawled up to her cheeks and she knew she was blushing long before amusement flickered over his handsome features.

“Before you ravished me?” he teased, using the arm that was still at her waist to pull her to the bed before he popped up onto his own elbow, leaning over her – ever the predator.

She looked up at him, feeling a bit shy. She played with the loose strands of his hair which were tickling at her collarbone and she nervously worried her lip. She had to tell him. “I...remember everything, Jareth,” she said softly, searching his eyes. There was a flicker of fear before it was hidden. “Six years ago, when I wished Toby away, picking up the crystal in the park, Toby wishing me here. Everything.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against her own. “Everything...?”

“Yes. Everything.”

Slowly, he began pulling away from her. “I...see-”

“I don't think you do.” She gripped the strands she'd been so gentle with, using them to pull him down to her. He wasn't expecting the movement and wound up going down on her fully, drawing a hiss from the sovereign when their skin pressed together. Before he could extract himself, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, not letting him pull away. He started trying to raise off her once again and she kicked her legs up around his waist, watching his eyes cloud as he wavered. “I remember everything. How gentle you've been with me, since I came here. How protective. How you held me every single evening we spent in Avalon, but never attempted to seduce me.”

His eyes closed and he turned his head away from her. “Sarah, last night-”

“I defied you. Considering how furious you were with Alura when that snotty little twit came in here, you could have responded differently. You could have hurled me out of your room. When I saw how furious you were, I expected you to.” His face twisted into a pained expression and he pressed it into her shoulder so she couldn't see. “I didn't expect...”

“I took advantage of you.” He sounded bitter, cold. He was trembling from trying to keep the position he held while she clung to him as she did. “You could not see, could not remember what our relationship had been, and I took advantage of that.”

“Jareth, for being so intelligent, sometimes you can be remarkably obtuse.” He pulled back, staring down at her, stunned as she gave him a small smile. “Silly man, I tried finding men who could measure up in my world. I tried everything I could think of, looking for someone who might take your place. A man who could be a villain and a hero, and everyone fell short.” She searched his face, seeing the hope that was finally breaking through. “Don't say you didn't watch me. I felt you.”

He sighed, cupping her face. “Sarah, darling...”

“Have I exhausted you again? Are you weary from trying so hard to be a knight when you are mostly a villainous king?” She held his hand to her face, closing her eyes.

He gave a sigh, coming to rest against her once again, letting her legs around him relax, but she didn't remove them from around her waist. There was a faintly amused smile playing on his lips and he gave her a heated look. “You exhausted me, alright, but not from trying to live up to your...expectations.”

She blushed, hiding her face, then glanced up at him, through the veil of her lashes. “Can't keep up with a mortal, your highness?” She asked, tightening her legs and mock thrusting against his firm stomach.

A surge of pleasure shot through her when he actually quivered. Suddenly, his hands were on her hips and he pulled her more firmly against him and she felt the evidence of his own arousal press upwards against her. Those hands slid from her hip, up her torso to her neck and she felt herself quiver in response, stating at her toes and ending with her hair.

For the love of God, he made her hair quiver!

His lips brushed her ear lightly as he leaned down to speak to her. “It's been awhile since I've had a lover, Precious, but I assure you, I will meet any challenge you give me.” He pulled back, his eyes amused. “But don't hold your breath on getting me beneath you every time. Especially since there are plenty of positions we haven't tried yet.”

Her cheeks burned red and she turned her head to stare at him, startled and a bit embarrassed. A gentle kiss on her brow eased her galloping heart and a hand upon her hair soothed her embarrassment.

“Worry not, Sarah. While I would be more than happy to have another such romp before we leave the bed this morning, we have to do that hateful little thing called 'talk'.” There was wry amusement and no small amount of dismay in his voice. Gently, he brushed his lips against hers and lifted himself off of her. He rose out of the bed, moving towards the wardrobe. He pulled down a silk dressing robe and walked back towards her, wrapping it around her shoulders.

It was comfortably large on her, much like her poets shirts, and it smelled of leather and spices. She pulled it tighter around herself and pressed her nose into the silk, hoping he wouldn't notice she was huffing his clothing. A soft chuckle told her that it hadn't escaped him. She blushed, using the fabric to shield her cheeks. She drew comfort from the smell, it made her feel like he still had his arms around her.

A hand being offered to her drew her attention, and she lifted her gaze, finding Jareth smiling kindly down at her. He was dressed casually, in dark gray wool breeches and a creamy silk shirt. There was a bit of anxiety in his gaze. She wondered if her own eyes reflected the same up at him. It had been easy enough to hide behind the sex when he'd first awaken. Even without it, while they were in his bed, they'd been careful not to broach certain topics which had no place there. Giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, even if it did feel wobbly, she set her hand in his, letting him pull her to her feet.

He led her to a door, and then through it, revealing another bedroom, and suddenly, a memory from only a week ago resurfaced, from when Morghaine and Alura had arrived. When they'd inquired about the queen's suite, Jareth had mentioned...

She looked up at him, surprised, heart clenching in her chest. He wasn't looking at her, his gaze resolutely forward. “This room...”

His gaze flickered towards her, and he gave an ironic half-smile. “You look surprised, Sarah. Why is that?”

She moved away from him, opening the wardrobe, finding dresses tailored to fit her nearly perfectly, in colors that she favored and flattered her. On the vanity table were fragrances from the above, ones she owned herself, ones she preferred. She also saw a collection of face paints which were perfect for her coloring. The whole room was open and airy, brightly lit, draped in sheer silks, with sheets on the bed she knew just by looking cost more than her father's monthly paycheck. This room was designed especially for her. The queen's suite.

She turned towards him, awareness weakening her. Her hands were shaking.

“If you do not like it, I can have it redecorated.” His voice was quiet, his eyes hidden by his bangs. He lifted his face, his expression neutral, as though he were preparing himself for a death blow.

Her heart ached when she realized that was just what he was doing. She moved quickly towards him, grabbing his hands and holding on tightly. “Don't change anything, Jareth. It's...it's perfect.” She pressed her face against the part of his chest left exposed by his shirt and felt tears pierce her eyes. She felt his arms come around her and a few of them slipped free. She felt him press a firm kiss against the crown of her head before his hands moved to cup her face, the pads of his thumbs brushing the escapee's from her cheeks.

“As much as I would like to examine this reaction further, we must talk.” He helped her to a chair and once she was settled on the cushion, he sat in one across from her. His elbows came to rest on his knees, his hands dangling between as he leaned forward, seeming to focus on the ground, obviously pondering where to start.

She leaned forward, gently taking his hands in hers.

“Do you remember the conversation we had upon your arrival, Sarah?” His eyes lifted and the look in them made her slightly uncomfortable.

“Which part?”

“The rules regarding mortals in the Underground.” He lifted his gaze to look at her, his eyes a bit murky. She nodded and he took a shaky breath. “You've been here a month under my protection because your mind and sight had been stolen. Now that they've returned...”

She lowered her gaze. “I'm not under your protection anymore.” It hurt a little to realize that. There was an odd sensation inside her and she inclined her head. It was strange, but having experienced it so frequently since she'd lost her sight told her what it was. “You're sad,” she whispered, her brow creasing.

He looked up at her. “By law, I am supposed to send you home here and now. You have not come here as an immigrant, you came here for protection and...”

“Toby wished me here so I'd be safe.” She said softly, a sad smile on her lips. Suddenly, she realized that he'd done that a month ago. He'd been waiting, having not heard from her for a full month. If Morgaine knew enough to curse her, what might have become of her brother. She didn't realize that her hands had tightened on Jareth's until he spoke to her.

“Sarah, what's wrong?”

She met his gaze, trembling. “Toby. How could I have forgotten about that.” She turned her face away, worry gripping her. “He's been waiting, not knowing what's happened to me...He doesn't have a clue that I'm okay, that I'm even still alive.”

His expression grew resigned and the sensation of sadness coming from him grew sharper. “He's probably very worried.” Jareth agreed, his voice quiet.

“What if...What if your mother went after him? Or my parents?” She looked at his face, seeing he already knew what she was going to say. His eyes were murky, pained, but he wasn't trying to stop her. She hated the pain on his face. “Jareth, I have to make sure they're okay. Please, understand. They're my family, Jareth.”

He kissed both of her hands, then stood, his face becoming neutral. He was trying to hide his pain from her so that it wouldn't color her decision and she knew it. “Say your right words, Sarah.” He said quietly. To her, he seemed like a man awaiting his execution. His eyes had that same haunted look they'd had when they'd stood opposite each other in the Escher Room.

Her throat closed and she stood, still holding his hands. How could she not have noticed then how frail, how brittle he looked. She didn't want to say those words, in fact she couldn't. They didn't even rise to her lips as she stared up at him. She closed the small amount of distance between them, gently setting a hand on either side of his face. His eyes fell closed in response to the touch and she felt. It was as though the filter which had been hiding the vast spectrum of his emotions from her had fallen and she was hit with a tidal wave of pain, sadness, and darkness. She stared up at him, tears in her eyes.

“You should hurry and say your right words, my dear, before I decide I can't let you go.” He gave a small, weak smile. “My villainous self is doing battle with the knight and he's winning. He wants me to occupy your mouth so you can't speak. To distract you from your goal once more. So if you wish to go home, you must say your right words.”

She pressed up onto her tip toes, grazing his mouth gently with hers. She felt him grow tense and pulled back, resting her head against his strong shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. “With the return of my memories and sigh, I release you from your promise, Goblin King. I no longer need your protection.” But I want it, I want you. Please don't hate me for this. “Please send me back to the Above.”

His pain swelled but she held on, forcing herself to endure it, even as it grew so agonizing that the tears which stood in her eyes fell free. She knew that some of the pain was her own, but his own feelings seemed to be so strong, she couldn't tell the difference. His hands came up, resting on her shoulders and she felt herself slowly fading. “As you wish, Sarah.” He whispered, his voice cracking.

She lifted her face, reaching up to touch his face, seeing his own eyes seemed unnaturally bright from what she recognized as unshed tears. Moments before she could make contact, his world vanished completely.

Sarah found herself standing in the gardens of the hospital, dressed once again in that horrid hospital gown, which itched after having the silk against her skin. Her heart felt bruised, but still, these feelings seemed like a ripple on a calm pond, compared to the turbulent sea of emotions that had washed over her from Jareth. Closing her eyes, she took a soothing breath, wiping the tears from her eyes. She turned towards the hospital, moving towards it, her slipper-clad feet moving quickly and with great purpose. Maybe her brain wasn't working quite right, but she kept walking, ignoring the nurses and doctors who were trying to stop her.

Her feet led her unerringly to her room, where she slowly pushed the door open, viewing the scene before her.

Toby had his face pressed into their father's shoulder, sobbing as though his heart was broken. Several people were asking where she was. It didn't seem possible. Had Jareth done this? She glanced at the calendar and mentally counted days, realizing that it was the date her brother had wished her away, likely only moments afterward.

I've reordered time...

She smiled a bit, moving towards them. “I'm here, Dad,” she said quietly.

The words stilled everyone in the room. Several heads whipped towards where she stood, but she only had eyes for the distressed little blond boy. Those swollen, red-rimmed blue eyes lifted and stared directly into her own. They widened as though startled and he broke free of their father's startled grip, rushing towards her. She knelt to meet him, hugging him tightly to her when his arms went around her neck. She put her lips beside his ear and whispered, “thank you.”

“He fixed it,” he whispered, tears wetting the cheap cotton of her hospital gown. He lifted his head and she smiled a bit sadly, wiping his nose with the sleeve.

“That he did,” she agreed. She hugged her brother tightly, hoping, though perhaps in vain, that she might return to the man she loved, her lover, sometime soon.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth had taken to his owl form and fled the room as soon as she had gone. Now, he flew into the wind, trying to fight against the pain within by exerting himself. He was running away and knew that he could only run for so long before the grief he was trying to flee overwhelmed him and he went slipping into that deep pain he'd felt the last time she'd left. Her tears as she'd vanished had caused the villain and knight to agree in unison that she shouldn't be going anywhere, but she'd said the words, and it wasn't in him to deny her.

He simply hoped that when he returned to the castle, he didn't find his mother once again waiting at the entrance. He'd been trying to shield himself, hoping that no one would notice the turbulence whirling within him.

How had everything gone so wrong, he wondered. He landed atop a high tree, staring off at the horizon, glad for his owl form. Owls did not cry, so this form contained the hurt inside him far better than his other form. Still, even as he'd changed into this form, he'd given a shriek of upset and flown from her open bedroom window.

That had been more than an hour ago. He had pushed himself as hard as he could, trying to forget but the memory of Sarah tormented him. He knew that that precious one would want to go home when she remembered everything. He had known that getting too close to her would be a mistake. She had given him no promises. Her worry and fear for her brother overpowered whatever feelings she had for him and she'd released him from his obligation, asking him to send her home.

Still...

She hadn't said the same words as before, stealing any power he had over her. She'd merely asked him to send her home. She hadn't demanded, hadn't even made it the form of a wish. She'd trusted him to send her home without those words.

His mind went back, remembering the night before, when he'd looked upon her, standing in his room and the fury had broken free. The following chain of events were burned into him – the subtle scent of her fear, followed by the sharp scent of arousal pouring off of her. At first, she'd been uncertain, but by the time he had her on the bed-

His lips pulled into a frown when another memory scratched at him. When he'd first found her there, the doors slamming shut, him moving towards her with the intent to harm or seduce – he hadn't been certain at the time which – she had said something to him.

She had said he'd told her to go into his room.

His wings gave a faint rustle as he left the tree, heading back to the castle and chewing on that one little tidbit of information. He had, most assuredly, not told her to go into his room. In fact, he'd told her several times to not enter it, in fact. It was a rule that did not change with the location. While he'd often visited her room, he had never allowed her in his. He'd clearly forbidden it, fearing his own reaction to her presence there.

Why would she think he had?

He landed on the balcony and between one breath and the next, was striding at his full height into the throne room. His knew his expression was a little dark as he moved. Upon entering, he found a fading, faded version of himself sitting upon his throne. The goblins were looking upon the artifice in worry, fear. When they noticed him, they scrambled towards him, putting him between them.

Jareth looked at this paler version of himself and snarled viciously, drawing it's attention. It looked up at him and he was surprised to find pain and anguish as real as his own on it's face. “Release me.” It whispered, it's voice the barest echo. “Magic is not meant to be condensed into solid form for so long. I beg you free me from this trapping...”

He frowned, looking at the weakening illusion. “You were created into a likeness of myself by my mother. Why?”

It lowered it's eyes. “She had hoped to use your rage to frighten the girl from your side, leaving her exposed and helpless. She believes that if the girl were out of the way, you would move past her. I know better. She gave me enough of you that I know the truth. She had to so that the girl would not sense something wrong with the illusion. I could not disobey her orders – she formed me into what I am. I beg you, release me from this prison before what is left of me is consumed while trying to maintain this artifice-”

Jareth reached out with a lash of power, destroy what remained of the shell that trapped the magic. It gave a sigh of relief and finally faded fully, and he felt it being reabsorbed into the magic which was the Underground. He frowned deeply, looking around as his goblins continued to cower behind him. Heaving a sigh, he kicked one, an old signal between himself and his subjects that everything was fine.

The goblin gave a cheer as it sailed through the air.

He wound up kicking several more, a few by request, before he moved and sat upon his throne, picking up the crop-like scepter. He tapped it against his thigh restlessly.

For now, all was well. He had no idea how long it would be as such, however.

One of the goblins brought him a snifter of brandy, then scampered off to indulge in their own ale and spirits, which he knew oft-times tasted much like old gym socks smelled. Jareth silently watched the crowd of rowdy creatures, swirling the liquor in it's small glass, his face a mask of calm. He knew, however, that there was a storm brewing beneath the surface.

A goblin crept towards him, it's eyes watery and worried. “Kinga? Where'd the Lady go?”

He turned towards the creature, a bit surprised to see genuine worry in it's eyes. Just with those words, the flurry of movement in the room had stopped. Of course, he'd forgotten that these creatures loved her, too.

Jareth sighed, lifting a hand and rubbing his temple. His head hurt, his heart felt bruised, and yet...after the initial pain, it had faded to a dull ache. He was used to the pain her absence brought him that even after the intense joy of having her at his side the past few weeks, the heart-wound she'd left before hadn't fully healed, so it was a bit like setting a broken bone. A brief period of intense pain, followed by weeks of soreness.

He gave the creature a look of understanding. “Lady Sarah is fine. Her sight has returned and with it, her memories. She is no longer in need of my protection and asked to go home to be with her family.”

“But...Lady loves Kinga.”

He examined this small one closely, frowning a bit. Goblins were rowdy and sometimes malicious, but they had an innocence that many creatures of the Underground lacked. This court lacked the drama and intrigue which was a wide-spread plague in many. It was one of the reasons he'd chosen to become Goblin King. Many of them were also empathic, which came as a result of what they did. They sensed before a child was wished away, went to the location and waited patiently for it to happen.

Of course they would have been able to sense the telltale feelings between himself and Sarah.

“Sarah...has a family of her own in the Above, which needs reassurance that she is safe.” A frown tugged down his lips. Still, if that illusion version of himself had not lied, she was far from 'safe'. His hand came up to cover his mouth and he stared into nothing, considering that. He tapped the scepter against his thigh in an agitated manner for several tense moments while the goblins watched him in concern.

Finally, he exploded out of his chair and began pacing. “There's nothing we can do for it. Yet. For the time being, let's get the castle ready so that when 'the lady' returns, everything runs smoothly.”

The goblins gave a loud cheer and began bustling all over the place, some of them scrambling for cleaning materials, others shouting about getting a party together for her return. As it was basically guaranteed that these creatures would get half-way through preparations and finally give in to their own urge to celebrate the possible return of the lady. Even if it might be awhile before she set foot back in the castle.

One goblin scrambled up his leg, and back, sitting on his shoulder as he watched the flurry of moving goblins. It pet his wild hair, humming a song and swaying back and forth. He glanced towards it, giving him a queer look. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Goblins glad Kinga not like last time. Kinga scared us last time.”

He arched a brow, inclining his head to the side. “Oh do tell.”

The goblin turned those watery eyes towards him. “Last time, Kinga get sad. Last time...Kinga not sing, not kick us, just hide away and be sad, sad. Kinga more fun when he's singing and kicking.”

“Am I?”

“Yup.”

Jareth extracted the goblin with one hand and drop-kicked it out of the throne room, eliciting a cheer from the rest of his subjects. He gave a faint smirk, pacing back towards the throne and resting on it in a boneless manner.

They were right. Everything was fine. So why was there a strange sense of discomfort in the back of his mind, a little nagging sensation that said that while everything was fine now, the proverbial shit was soon going to hit the fan.


	10. Chapter 10

Sarah had been home for more than a week. A long, tiring ten days.

The hospital had been more than slightly reluctant to release her, claiming that her sight could go at any time, her memory might still be fluid and that she should stay awhile longer, 'just in case'. Her father had told them all to stuff it, since, in his own words, they'd been completely inept, neglectful, and never even figured out why her sight had left her in the first place. They'd simply run test after test, never even hinting they were any closer to an answer, but always swearing that the next test would 'help'. Her mother and step-mother both seconded that statement and Sarah herself explained that she'd be better off at home where they couldn't continue to stick her with pointy things.

So, despite their great reluctance, the hospital released her.

She'd have been lying if she said finding herself only moments further forward in time than the moment she'd been wished away wasn't something of a shock. Still, it was a relief, because she was able to slide back into her life with relative ease. No one besides Toby knew she'd been gone in the first place.

Only her baby brother knew she'd been a guest in another realm.

Yes, she slid back into her life easily, but now her mind drifted nearly constantly back to that month she'd spent in the Underground, under the protection of the Goblin King. She'd found that crystal necklace still around her neck when she'd been left alone for the first time and had clung to it for dear life, afraid that it might vanish. Whatever enchantment had been on it must have gone by now, because he didn't come to her side. She didn't call out to him, but simply having that pendant was like a constant reminder that for a little while she'd had something she never thought she would.

She'd had someone she found that she could love. She'd always loved Jareth, had always known he was the only man who could really be what she needed in a man. Knight and villain all in one. The first night in her home, she'd lay on her bed, staring at that figurine which so resembled the sovereign, trying to deny the tears on her cheeks, as she remembered the pain he'd felt as he'd let her go. She hadn't been able to demand it of him, had almost hoped he would turn villain and refuse to let her leave, but he'd simply held her and...let her go.

It wasn't a test, not really. She somehow knew that he would, but she'd hoped he would at least try to convince her to stay, or even ask her to come back. He didn't say anything. Not with his voice. But the feelings that had poured off of him...

Feeling his emotions had nearly killed her.

Since she'd been home, she gone to the library several times and when home, found herself on the end of curious glances. Her father often commented she seemed like she was in a different world. She kept staring into space, wondering if Jareth was alright, if he was thinking of her, and hoping that if he was that it was not with anger.

Her trips to the library had not been wasted. She scoured the books for anything she could find about people who disappeared 'beyond the veil'. Everything from goblins to will o' the wisps, any way she might bridge the gap between their worlds and go back. Her family, was fine after all. She couldn't just disappear on them, had to let them know where she was going so they wouldn't worry, but she couldn't live here for the rest of her life after having for a short, precious month at the side of the Goblin King.

Finally, she reached a decision and a short time later, she took her brother to that same park where she'd always play-acted as a girl. She put Toby in her lap and told him a new story, her story. The story of her most recent adventure. She kept it simple, appropriate for someone at the tender age of seven. Towards the end of the story, she drifted off, until Toby pulled away and turned towards her, a small frown pulling down his lips.

“Sarah,” he asked, seeming confused and perhaps a bit uncomfortable. “Why did you come back? If you loved him, why would you leave him? And if you had to...why didn't you tell him you'd come back?”

She lowered her gaze, her heart aching a bit. She'd known the question would come, but she hadn't wanted to answer just yet. She was still building up the strength to say goodbye. Finally, she lifted her gaze, looking at the boy on her lap. “I came back because I love you, too. By his time, I'd been gone a full month. I don't know if he reordered time or something, but here it was only moments. I didn't know when I asked. I thought everyone here would be worried, wondering where I was.”

She sighed when her brother frowned. Gently, she cupped his cheeks, looking down into his face. “I thought you might be in danger. He knew that and I...I hope he understands that I couldn't just leave you hanging. I wanted you to know I was okay, and see that you were okay as well. Your wish saved my eyes, my mind, and my live. If you hadn't wished me to him...I might have never had the courage to go back myself. Thank you, Toby.”

His eyes turned thoughtful, then the deep pools of azure brightened. “You mean, you're going to go back?”

She gave him a smile. Even to her it felt wobbly and tremulous. “If he'll have me.”

“Are you going to wish yourself to him?” Now, her brother looked downright excited.

She gave a small smile and shook her head. “No. I...I want to surprise him. When I asked to leave I was too preoccupied with worrying about you and I think I proved his worst fear without meaning to.” She bit her lip, hugging the boy close to her chest and resting her chin on his head. “Toby, let's go home. We can go home and eat with the family and...I'll tell everyone that I'm going away for awhile at least.” She released him and stood, offering her hand to the boy, her eyes warm. “Let's go home.”

He smiled up at her, taking her hand, letting her pull him to his feet. “Okay, Sarah. But that overgrown git better at least let you come to visit now and then!”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Morgaine tapped her long fingernails impatiently on the armrest of the chair. It had been almost two weeks since she'd left her son's home last. Now, she sat in a safe-house that was on the other side of the realm, hidden from her half-brother's foolish guards.

They'd thought to take her unawares. Those foolish creatures had less magic in their blood than her fool of a nephew Mordred. He was useless, absolutely useless. It had taken him six years to find the girl who'd broken her son's heart and even then, for whatever reason, the death curse inside that sphere hadn't taken her at the expected time.

From what she'd gleaned, Jareth had taken Sarah to Avalon, meaning that Caledonensis had no doubt had a hand in saving her. Jareth had never needed that knowledge, so she'd known it would not be taught to him. No doubt, however, her son had told the High King that she'd cursed that wretched female. Frustrated, she lifted a hand, chewing lightly on her thumbnail. Her other hand continued to tap the chair in agitation.

He'd betrayed her. Her own son. He didn't seem to understand she was only doing this for his own good. The girl had it coming. Well, regardless. The girl would have obeyed the illusion of Jareth, wouldn't have known to question the orders given to her, and so by now, she was roaming the dangerous Underground, blind, memories continuing to fade. Her son was paying for his betrayal by experiencing the second betrayal by that blasted female.

She called in a mirror, peering into it. It hadn't surprised her when the rage had washed over her, only moments before reaching the heavily shielded safe-house. Once she'd entered, however, she'd been cut off. She wanted to watch the boy languish a bit before she went to him, offered him her help, her hand, once more. Offered him that awful wretch Alura, only because the girl would never dare to defy him. He would forget that awful child Sarah, and-

She stared, stunned, noting that her son looked remarkably placid. Calm even. The fury she'd felt eating him when no doubt, he'd found the girl in his room, seemed a vague memory. He lounged in his throne, surrounding by goblins which seemed torn between having a party and preparing one. There was even a faint smile playing around his lips as he sat there in that boneless manner. One goblin ran past her view, wearing a floral crown around it's ears and her heart stopped.

That was the design commonly used for a hand-fasting. She'd used a similar design for her own so long ago!

Horror filled her and she broke the contact before her son could notice he was being watched. She snapped the girl's name towards the glass and found herself staring at a warm family dinner, with several adults, two children and that Sarah. Her eyes were green, glittering, defiant. She was speaking to her family softly, but Morgaine could not tell what she was saying.

How was it possible? How had this girl managed to break the curse? The wretch was no longer with her son, but what had happened between that impassable rage that Jareth had felt and now? Love was supposedly the only way to break the spell, but she refused to believe that those two even knew what love was. It simply wasn't possible.

Suddenly, green eyes lifted, looked at her, echoed by a blue pair, and she found the girl and her brother both staring at her. Morgaine felt a surge of fear and quite suddenly, her mirror shattered in her hand.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Sarah relaxed slightly when the sensation of being watched ended. She there was a flash of fear she felt through that hold in the veil and then it was abruptly cut off. She glanced around the table to see if anyone had noticed her staring seemingly into space, and found her brother staring into the same direction, wearing an expression of undisguised malevolence.

She reached over, gently resting a hand on her brother's shoulder and caught something sharper than the feelings she'd gotten while in the Underground. She heard him. He was agitated, angry, and when he looked towards her, she saw a feral expression in his eyes that reminded her of Jareth when he was feeling protective of something.

She's not the Goblin King. She's the one that doesn't like us.

Sarah swallowed hard, moving her hand to his, gently holding her brother's small hand. Remembering what Calendonensis had taught her about channeling, she tried to send a feeling of peace to her brother. His eyes grew sad and he squeezed her hand. She felt him growing calmer and leaned over, gently kissing her brother on the forehead.

Then, she straightened, finding her families eyes upon her suddenly. She looked at them, taking a deep breath. “I've been doing a lot of thinking this week.” She wasn't certain how she managed to speak with the intensity of the stares she was receiving from her four parental figures. “I'm twenty one now, and most women my age have seen something of this world. I'm not like other women, and I...I know that. I'm awkward here. It's almost like I don't belong here.”

Startled expressions. Worry on Karen's face. Understanding on her mother's. Robert and Jeremy had that same sharp intensity. Sarah swallowed, lowering her gaze and played with her fingers, breaking the gaze. “I know you all probably wont believe me, but...I want to tell you a story.”

Toby gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and she glanced towards him. He gave her a toothy smile and nodded. She smiled back and took a deep breath.

“The story starts six years ago...” Haltingly, Sarah told her family the story, unable to look them in the eyes until she was about midway through her story. Karen looked officially lost, but the others...There was knowledge on those faces. Understanding that went above and beyond belief. They didn't simply believe her, they knew she was telling the truth. Her father had a slight tightening around his mouth, betraying restrained emotion. Her mother was gripping Jeremy's hand, tears in her eyes. Jeremy most of all, however. Jeremy, who had features that were a startling amount like the Goblin King's.

She slowly trailed off around the time her brother wished her into the protection of the Goblin King and stared at them. She heard Karen questioning her further, but the sound of her voice had faded into the background as she stared down the table at her parents and Jeremy. “You...know about the Underground.”

Jeremy's brow shot up into his hair line. With a sigh, he leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck. “I told you that you should have told her ages ago, Linda.” He said quietly. “I seem to recall telling you that, as well, Robert...” He leaned forward, resting his chin onto his hand, elbow on the arm of the chair. “What would you say if I told you that it is not uncommon for people born on one side of the veil to make a choice and cross to the other side?”

Her jaw dropped and she stared at him. “Well, Jareth said something about immigration laws, but...You're telling me people from the-” She stopped, looking at him, noticing for the first time that in this room of people whose emotions were so intense, Jeremy felt muted, much like those in the Underground had. “You're...You came from the Underground.”

He gave a half-smile. “It is not as uncommon as you may think. Many residents of the Underground cannot find what they seek there and come here in hopes that they will. I'd seen you mother many times in that very park you favor. The veil is very thin there, and it's easy to sense the humans that are there. Your mother had her own magic, a magic that is rare even in the Underground. It's called imagination, and it's a gift she passed on to you.”

Her eyes moved towards her father. “That's not the only magic I seem to have. I seem to be empathic. Very empathic. It's getting stronger, and with...others here it's almost like I'm hearing thoughts.”

“Not surprising.” Jeremy smirked, a look that made him look even more like the Goblin King. “Your father has some Underground lineage as well. On his mother's side. She was a cousin of mine, a few times removed.”

She lowered her gaze, sighing softly. Her brother patted her hand gently. “I'm going to the Underground. I'll find out what I have to do to formally immigrate there. I...I love Jareth, and if he'll have me, I'm going to marry him.”

Robert stood abruptly, beginning to pace. “Sarah, you don't understand what you're doing. The Underground will change you. You'll...stop aging. Everyone here, we'll fade away. We'll die, and you'll keep going forever. Do you understand what you're sacrificing for this man you barely know?!”

Sarah lifted her face, her lips turning up into a sad smile. “I understand, dad. But can you understand what I'll be sacrificing if I don't go?”

He slumped and put his hands on the table. “Karen, please...talk some sense into her-”

Karen, who was obviously having difficulty swallowing all of this knowledge all at once took an unsteady breath. “If what I've just heard is true, Robert...I can't. Sarah is an adult, capable of making her own choices. I can't see the harm in her making this one. You...haven't seen how unhappy she is with boys from this town. She's gone through every extreme, trying to find this one type that doesn't seem to be here.”

Robert paced away. “And what if you can't come back and visit, Sarah? What if something happens and you die, and we never know? Or we die? Or Toby?”

Sarah fisted her hands into the tablecloth. “I knew you'd take this the hardest,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “You were the only one who has always been there. Mom...made her choices when she was young, and Jeremy barely knows me. Karen has been here for half my life, but you...you've always been there. But you can't change my mind Dad. You ask me what happens? If any of you die, I'll know it. I'll...I'll feel it. And visitation laws be damned, I'll pull every string I've got and I'll be there with you all for the end.” She saw him open his mouth to object and smiled. “Trust me, dad. I've got some pretty heavy duty strings over on that side.”

Jeremy's eyes brightened in interest. “Heavy duty, eh? How heavy duty, young one?”

Her back straightened. “The Goblin King, The High King and his Queen, and...Caledonensis...”

Brown eyes widened and the man sagged back into his chair. “Those are some impressive Underground connections.”

Robert stared at her.

She stood. “I'm going up to my room. I'm going to call my friend, Hoggle. He'll help. He wont like it, but he'll help me.” She dusted off her jeans, looking towards her brother. “You gonna come wish me good luck, squirt?”

He smiled up at her, grabbing her hand and dragging her up the stairs.

The others followed, curious, confused. Sarah's half-sister followed close behind, eyes shining in mischief. She heard questions and mostly ignored them, stepping past her brother and into her room. She slipped on her most comfortable hiking boots and stood before her mirror, hands trembling in anticipation. “Hoggle. I need you.”

His leathery face appeared in her mirror and cries of shock went up when he crawled through the glass and spilled half of what rested on her desk to the floor. He approached her, his pale blue eyes looking up at her with a critical look. “You look a damn sight better than when I saw ya last.” He walked around her, frowning a bit. “It looks like that arrogant jerk did you some kinda good, at least...”

She knelt, hugging her friend. “Jareth was very good to me.” She pushed him away a bit, searching his eyes. “He's sort of why I called you...” She saw understanding in his eyes, and remembered he didn't particularly care for the monarch. “He mentioned something about tests that immigrants have to take to remain in the Underground, to prove that they're not their involuntarily...”

The dwarf's eyes grew until they were as big as dinner plates. “Immigrants – Sarah, are you askin' what I think you're askin'? Why I think you're askin'?”

She nodded, smiling at him. “I'm planning on going to the Underground to stay.” She lifted a finger when he opened his mouth to object. “I know, Hoggle. There are other things I have to do, too, but for now, I need to find out what I might be facing in these tests.” She stood, turning, hugging each relative in turn. When she reached her father, she hugged him especially tightly. “It'll be okay, dad.”

“You shouldn't do this, Sarah.” He whispered back, his voice fierce.

“Stop it, Dad.” Toby's voice came from below them. “She wants to go. Really, you're lucky she told you at all!”

Everyone stared at Toby, startled. Sarah merely pulled from her father and knelt, hugging her brother tightly. “Thanks, Toby. I'll miss you.”

“Try to visit soon.”

“Of course.” She kissed his forehead and released him, turning towards her friend. “Hoggle, I want to go back, to be with Jareth. I know you don't care for him, but will you please help me?”

The dwarf gave a sigh that matched the resigned expression on his face. “Only because it's for you, little lady. The goblins been acting especially wild these past few days. Like they's plannin' for something big. Guess they were...” He offered his hand and a weak smile. “Come on, let's go through the mirror.”

She set her hand in his, smiling brilliantly at him, then let him lead her through the mirror. Just before she disappeared completely, she turned back one last time and smiled wildly. “Goodbye.” She whispered, and was gone.

Robert felt Karen's hand slip into his own and clung to it desperately. “I just hope she's not making a potentially bad decision...” He whispered, pressing his face into his wife's hair.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

It had been more than a month now he'd returned to his own castle, Sarah at his side, and around three weeks since Sarah had left to return to the Above. She had not called upon him, but now and then, he could feel her, knew she was holding onto the crystal pendant he'd given to her. It was a pleasantly maddening sensation, because it felt like she was right beside him. Yet she was not. Her warmth was not there.

It was the worst when he woke to that sensation in the middle of the night or morning, thinking that she truly was at his side, only to find her gone. Twice after that, he'd destroyed a room in the castle. His housekeeper finally showed up one day to chastise him for undoing all her hard work and threatened that if he tore up one more room beside his own, she was going to make him use his own damn magic to fix it.

Now, for reasons unknown to him, he was in his palanquin, on his way back into Avalon. Two day ago, he'd received a notice that there was to be a gathering of the court. The whole court. He hoped that this meant that his mother had finally been apprehended, however, he knew it was likely too good to be true. There were really too many reasons to call a full court together.

He stared out across the city as he approached it, tapping his boot restlessly with that crop-like scepter, a hand hiding his frown from everyone else. The city was a reminder of the sweeter times with Sarah, they'd spent much of that month she'd been here in his brother's castle. Here, the memories were not colored by her former experience in the Labyrinth, by her rejection of him.

His goblins had been very upset that he'd been called away again, so soon after his last absence. He knew that at least in part, it was because Morgaine had seen fit to come into the castle while he'd been away in Avalon last month. Since then, he'd often caught the sensation of being watched and knew that only his mother dared to do something like spy on him.

He was agitated by being called away. For the past few weeks, there had been an impression of the whole of the Underground holding it's breath. The air had blossomed with a strange tension, which reminded him of a tidal wave, growing ever taller, waiting to finally crest, likely taking the realm by storm in the process. Mixed in the tension was a sensation of discomfort, that something was on the verge of going horribly and completely wrong.

He realized after a moment, the tapping had increased in speed with his growing unease. It was an old habit, something he did unconsciously when he was thinking about something. He could not break the habit, although he'd tried frequently at his mother's prompting. She'd often told him that it was befitting for a king to look so agitated.

A knot of tension was beginning to form between his shoulder blades as he grew closer to the castle at the center of the city. He sighed, looking up at it. His heart had begun to tremble with anticipation, a sensation he understood no better than the strange finger-snap summons he'd received from his uncle. As the palanquin began to stop, he left it, striding up the steps, already agitated from the feelings he was feeling. He tore off his traveling cloak, tossing it at the butler, whatever his name was. He didn't even cast the man a second glance. “Gwenny! Arty!”

Arthur appeared at the top of the steps, obviously dressed for a day in court. “You've arrived. I'm relieved.” He moved towards him, falling waving a hand to a few of the servants, indicating that they should move his luggage into a room.

Jareth almost snarled at his uncle in upset. “What the devil is this finger-snap summons for? Why is the court gathering? My goblins were most annoyed by my abrupt departure. Who knows what manner of mischief they'll get into as a result!” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, realizing that while he was also a king, he was yelling at a man who outranked him, putting being family and a friend aside. “Forgive me, I'm tense.”

Arthur gave him a look of amused sympathy. “I'm afraid that a request has been placed before the court.” There was a look of restrained amusement on his uncles face. “The full court. Meaning every member of the court must be there, even a minor king. I'm sorry to pull you away so soon after your return to your kingdom.”

Jareth gave a soft sigh. “Very well. I must go bathe and change. I am not adequately presentable to be at court. Give me an hour.” He walked past his uncle, stopped only when a hand wrapped gently around his bicep. “What now, Arthur?”

The older king had a sly look about him. “Take an hour and a half. You'll be glad you did.”

Jareth rolled his eyes, walking down the hall. He pulled down his formalwear, laying it out on his bed and staring down at it, without seeing it. The last time he'd worn this, it was when Sarah had been here. He lifted it to his nose, breathing in deeply, finding the scent of her perfume still lingered where her skin had touched. He shook his head, setting it down and looked around the room they'd placed him in. There was a door, which implied another room connected to this one, and he decided to investigate it later. Right now, he was so weary, he could scarcely think straight.

He moved towards the connecting bathroom, taking a long soak, followed by a short shower, relieved when his own scent did not offend him. For some reason, he was taking the advice his uncle had given him, lingering at his vanity, making sure his appearance was just so, before he left his room.

Wait staff whispered as he passed, quiet little whispers, mixed with knowing smiles. He was not certain he approved of being further food for the rumors here, and wondered what on earth was going on.

He finally reached the entrance to the room where the court took petitions, and rolled his shoulders. “Bloody hell, let's get this mess over with...” he muttered, pushing the doors open with his hands, using a little magic to aid muscle, sending them crashing back against the walls so hard that those in the room jumped, startled. He strode in, the knee-length cloak flowing behind him as he moved forward. It was held closed by the emblem of his station.

As he moved through the room, his head held high, he heard the same general comments he always heard at court. The single queens, princesses, and ladies of the court murmured approval, which was common. The younger kings, princes and gentlemen of the court, however...

“I don't see why we had to invite the king of such a backwater nation as the Goblin Kingdom...” Lance muttered as he passed him. Jareth paused, turning towards him and sent him a look of amusement.

He never got a chance to return fire. Arthur entered, Guenevere at his arm, her other hand resting lightly upon her stomach. Arthur gave Lance a slashing look. “Jareth was invited because he is a member of this court, and a king. By the way, you should watch how you speak to those who out-rank you.” He led his queen towards Jareth.

Politely, he bowed before his aunt, taken by surprise when the woman threw her arms around him. He gave Lance a look of further amusement, gently patting his aunts back. “You look pale, Gwenny,” he said quietly, returning his attention back to his aunt.

“I've been throwing up all morning. The doctor says it's normal.” She gave a weak shrug.

“Well, if you decide you need to in the presence of the court, I can make sure that it lands on Lance, over there.” He smirked, leading her towards the front, behind his uncle.

She gave him a look of amusement. “That's what your uncle said.”

They separated at the thrones, and Jareth went off to the side to take his own seat. Mentally, he reminded himself to let Sarah know that her suspicion was correct. He smiled at the pair, but his happiness was twinged with sadness for himself. If he ever saw her again. Why hadn't she called on him yet?

He was so torn up thinking about it, he didn't even notice the next group that entered until they stopped, in the center of the room, obviously those who would vouch for the presence of the petitioner in the Underground. His eyes flickered over them, completely struck mute.

Hoggle stood at the front of the group, shaking, obviously petrified from fear, but his back was straight. His lips were firmed, likely from suppressing his emotions. Sir Didymus stood behind and beside the dwarf, looking ever the part of the knight. Ludo lumbered behind Hoggle, making the smaller creatures look even smaller still.

Jareth licked his lips, his eyes shooting towards Arthur and Guenevere, his heart already hammering in his chest.

Arthur stood. “A petition has been placed before the court. Let the petitioner enter.” His command echoed faintly in the room, no doubt enhanced by magic.

Jareth felt that feeling of anticipation swell, heard confused murmurs around the room, even as the opened, revealing the figure of a young lady, cast mostly in shadow. She was wearing denim pants, a white poets shirt and a dark brown vest. Jareth saw nearly black brown hair hanging over one of those shoulders. Before she fully entered, he knew who he was looking at. Disbelief and hope warred inside of him as he stared at her, each step bringing her further into this circle of people.

“Sarah...” he whispered when her glittering green, defiant eyes dared anyone to object to her presence in that court. She didn't glance towards him, kept her eyes resolutely forward as she stepped into the center of that circle. Her back was straight, her head held high. He watched her come to a full stop, and rather than curtsy – which was customary for women – she knelt before the High King, her head lowering.

“Rise, Lady Sarah of the Above.”

She did as she was told, and when she was completely still, he detected the faintest trembling in her hands before she fisted them and fully lifted her gaze to Arthur's. “I, Sarah Williams, respectfully request permission to immigrate to the Underground permanently.

Just like that, Jareth felt his world turn fully upside down, inside out and decided that the whole situation was painfully similar to being kicked forcefully in the gut by a mountain troll. He exhaled slowly, relieved that the world righted itself, and clung to the armrests on the chair in an effort to keep him himself from jumping up and rushing to her side. His eyes flickered towards Arthur, who was regarding the girl with a twinkle in his eyes that no matter how stoic his expression, he could not hide.

Arthur, please...he mentally begged.

After an intentionally drawn out silence, Arthur spoke, his voice kindly. “I see no reason you should not be given permission to come into this realm, Lady Sarah. Permission-”

“I object.”

The voice by the entrance was calm, but Jareth heard the underlying fury in the painfully familiar voice. Jareth swore viciously as his eyes snapped towards the door.

Pale hands lifted, brushing back the hood of the cloak. There stood Lady Morgaine, her blue eyes deep wells of anger and rage, although her face looked placid enough. “I object to the presence of this girl in the Underground. She has no right to be here. She had no right to cross the veil. She went home. In the Above she should have remained. We do not need her kind here!”


	11. Chapter 11

Jareth could have quite happily tossed his meddling mother into the nearest oubliette. Not a nice pleasant one like Sarah fell in, either. One of the dangerous ones that had really big spikes at the bottom. He took several calming breaths to keep from lunging over the railing that 'protected' the court and choking his mother until she either tapped out or passed out.

Arthur on the other hand, looked much more calm. “Morgaine,” his tone was firm, yet kindly. “This is a closed session and you were not invited.” His eyes held something akin to pity. “And as for her kind, sister, the Underground is not a closed society, often people immigrate here, as well as from here to the Above.”

“Those who immigrate here don't usually have two kings wrapped 'round their fingers!” She moved forward, her face calm and she stood within arms reach of Sarah, who was being oddly quiet. Jareth glanced towards the young woman, noting she looked a little pale and was trembling worse. He didn't doubt she could feel the undisguised malevolence that Morgaine felt for her. “For a mortal to come to the Underground and receive permission, she must prove herself before the court! This is law that you, Arthur, wrote yourself in order to protect these...creatures. I demand she undergo her five tests!”

Jareth rubbed his mouth and stood, staring down into the circle. “That would be four test, Lady Morgaine, not five.”

Blue eyes and green snapped towards him but he looked down at his mother, a frown playing on his lips. “Did you forget who you speak of? Sarah Williams has already completed one of the most difficult tests the Underground has to offer. That of defeating my Labyrinth, not in thirteen, but eleven hours.” He glanced towards Sarah, who was looking up at him and their eyes made contact for the first time since she entered the room.

There was a possessive look aimed at him from those defiant eyes. He met that gaze for a long moment, keeping his face schooled into a neutral expression. “I highly doubt...that a more difficult challenge can be thought of. Four tests should, in fact, be sufficient. She has already succeeded where most mortals have failed.”

Arthur watched him, glanced at Morgaine, then Sarah, then leaned over, listening to something his wife whispered into his ear. His expression softened. “It would seem I have no choice. You understand, Lady Sarah, that if you fail in any of these challenges, you forfeit your right to remain in the Underground? You will be returned to the Above, and will live out your days there?”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, her eyes leaving Jareth's face and returning to Arthur's. “Yes, your Majesty.” Her lips turned up into a faint smile. “However, no one will know if I'm...worthy until I give it my best, and I'd like to say...” She turned towards Lady Morgaine, the smile falling off her face. “No one here save the Goblin King has ever seen my best. If you think I'll fail because I was born in the Above, I guess I'll just have to prove you wrong, Lady. The title was spat out with undisguised malevolence.

Morgaine went for her, her hands curled into claws, and Jareth would have been up and over the rail, had a hand not shoved him back down into his seat. He glanced back, finding Caledonensis with a frail looking hand holding him down with a surprising amount of force. “For once, boy, let the Lady fight for herself.”

Jareth turned, finding Sarah still upright, both of his mother's wrists pinned behind her back. His breath sighed out of him and he huffed, a petulant frown turning down his lips. She didn't need her protection after all...

“You know, Morgaine, I want to like you. I really do, but you're making that really difficult,” Sarah grumbled, releasing the woman and glaring at her. “If Arthur had accepted my petition, I would have demanded following the laws and taking these tests, regardless.” Sarah said, her voice tight. “Not for you, not for the court, but for the person I have to prove my will to. He's done everything to prove himself to me, and I've done nothing for him, nothing. These tests are to prove to him that I want to be here.”

Morgaine stared at her, struck dumb, even as guards pulled her back.

Arthur cleared his throat, as if to remind them that they were still in the presence of the court. Once attention had been returned to him from the drama unfolding in the center of the room, he spoke. “Very well. You will receive your first task on the morrow. You may depart, as well as those who vouch for you.” He stood, assisting Guenevere to her feet. “Rest well, Lady Sarah. These will not be simply tasks. They will be dangerous.”

Her lips turned up into a snarky little grin that reminded Jareth once more why he'd fallen in love with this defiant woman-child. “I tend to do best when facing dangers untold ad hardships unnumbered...” Her voice was cocky, and her smile became more like a smirk as her eyes darted towards him.

Jareth's lips curled to give her an answering smirk.

“Then by your leave, your highness.” She bowed at the waist, which drew scandalized gasps and objections from the peanut gallery before she made her way to the door, Ludo, Sir Didymus, and Hoggle at her side, head held high as when she first came through the door.

Jareth threw a wild grin towards his aunt and uncle, preparing to steal out of his seat ahdn head towards the door, but a firm grip on his shoulder and his uncle's voice stopped him.

“Jareth, I must bid you to wait. I'm afraid that this session of the court has not come to a close.” Arthur stood, looking down into the pit, drawing Jareth's gaze to the other woman who stood there, pale and shaken.

Ah, yes. This unfinished business...Jareth felt an odd sadness claw at his chest. Though unstable, there was no denying the fact that she was his mother. She'd always known when he was hurt or unhappy, which is what caused this whole mess to begin with. Up until recently, she had always tried to do what was best for him, and he hoped that in deciding her punishment, his uncle took that into account.

“Lady Morgaine...” Arthur stared down at her, his gaze unwavering, but thick with pity. “It would appear that in becoming King, I have been remiss at making sure that my family keeps it's ducks in a row...” He sighed, shaking his head. “How many death curses have you cast, Morgaine? I already know how many you forced Mordred to hand out, so don't try to gloss this over.”

“They wronged me! All of them wronged me! You wronged me! Now my own son wrongs me!” She was rambling out against anyone might have stood for her. Jareth lowered his heads. There were easier ways to kill oneself than to speak out against the whole of the court or blame those she'd murdered. “I never cursed the undeserving!”

Arthur closed his eyes and Jareth saw his hand was tight on Guenevere's. This was as difficult for his uncle as it was for him. Jareth closed his eyes and stood. “My lord, if I may speak.” He said quietly. “This matter which has been placed before the court by her own hand takes more time and attention than anyone here currently has.” He kept his voice calm and even, his expression neutral. “I know not for the others here, but I am weary. I have spent the whole of the day traveling and I would rather approach this matter fresh and well rested. Might I recommend that Lady Morgaine be taken into custody and that this matter be reviewed at a later date in time?”

Arthur looked relieved at his intervention. “Yes, Jareth...you are right.” He lowered his gaze to Morgaine's wild-eyed one and sighed. “Take this woman into custody. Treat her as we would any other woman of her station.”

The guards led Morgaine away, and the woman shrieked and screamed, thrashing about in anger.

Jareth felt raw, scrubbed out. His temper was on edge already and now, it seemed as though the slightest touch might set it off. Quietly, he moved towards Arthur and Guenevere as the rest of the court began filing out, whispering amongst themselves. “This...day has been more difficult than I thought it would. I am actually relieved to see Sarah's...self-imposed personal guard here...” His voice held a note of dry amusement.

Arthur looked at him, his face looking as exhausted as Jareth felt. “That child should not have to even do these tests. She belongs here. I can feel it when I look at her. I've known since you first brought her here that she would eventually stand before the courts to make her place in this realm, and if Morgaine had not arrived to object, I would have dashed the courts concerns. However, when the law is directly laid at my feet-”

“It's alright Arty.” Jareth smirked when fire flashed in his uncle's eyes. “Besides, you heard her. She wanted to take the tests regardless...but for Morgaine to demand them...that woman is up to something and it troubles me to consider what her newest plot against Sarah might be.”

“Newest? What else besides curse her has she done?!”

Jareth gave him a wicked grin. “She cast an illusion of me to tell Sarah to enter my chambers at the Castle beyond the Goblin City. I think she supposed I would heave Sarah out of my castle like I did others who made such a foolish mistake.”

“But you didn't, and obviously whatever you did broke that curse...” Guenevere said quietly.

“I have a fair guess as to what happened, Guenevere-darling.” Arthur said wryly. “I've had her put in the room beside yours. I thought that would please you, however...Jareth, you must not interfere with her tasks after they are put before her. You cannot help, you cannot guide. You are a member of the courts. You cannot let your partiality color this contest for her. It would dissatisfy both her and the other members of the court.”

Jareth gave a small, wry smile and nodded. “I know, Arty. I know.” He headed towards the door. “And for god's sake, man. Get that woman off her feet, before she faints. Women with child shouldn't be standing for such long periods of time.”

Guenevere shot him a dirty look, which told him that Arthur had been doing a great deal of what she termed 'unnecessary fussing' since he'd learned the good news. He smirked back at her, slipping out of the room, and heading towards his own quarters. He was more than half-way there when he felt her through the crystal and there was something between pain, unease, and serious upset surging into him.

“Sarah...” he whispered, and before he realized what he was doing, he was moving through the castle at a full run, stopping before the door he knew was hers. He rapped on it once and entered long before there was an answer. He found the entrance to the bathroom crowded by Ludo's huge frame and could hear Hoggle and Sir Didymus's concerned voices. He rested his gloved hand on the beast, using just enough pressure to ease the creature out of his way and entered the bathroom.

Sir Didymus was holding Sarah's long hair back and Hoggle was stroking her back, wearing an expression of concern. As if they felt his eyes on them, they looked back, their eyes bright with concern. He moved forward, frowning when Hoggle stepped between him and Sarah.

She was leaning over the commode, her body trembling, her skin pale and her clothing damp with sweat. She looked weak, sick, and from the smell, had been several times before he entered. “My lady.” He said softly. She went still, glancing back at him, and then rested her forehead on the cool porcelain.

“Jareth...” She whispered.

He gave the dwarf a patient look that usually preceded sending someone flying out of a castle window care of his foot and Hoggle grudgingly moved aside. He moved towards her, and knelt, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “You ought be in bed, darling. A basin can be brought to you should you feel you need one. You should have never come before the court if you've been ill.”

“I'm not sick, Jareth.” Her tone was stubborn, defiant, and sent equal surges of admiration and irritation through him.

“Tell that to the bile you left in the toilet, Precious.” He glanced back at the creatures who were looking a bit despondent. “Turn down her covers, find a basin for her and let the kitchen know the lady will be dining in her own room this evening.” They shuffled to obey him, looking rather annoyed that they were being sent away.

“They shouldn't even be here...” she murmured. “I told them I could do this on my own, that they shouldn't trouble themselves-”

“Never tell one of your knights that they shouldn't trouble themselves not to worry for you.” He could hear the amusement in his own voice and knew she would as well. She glared towards him. “Not even the one who is more villain than knight. It is our privilege and pleasure to fuss over you, Sarah.”

She kept that glare leveled at him, even as he leaned forward, brushing his lips against her forehead. “You're enjoying this.”

He gave her a wry smile, tightening the arm around her shoulders and sliding the other beneath her knees. “You should hold on tight, love.” He teased lightly, then stood, holding her to his chest. She swore viciously, hiding her face into his shoulder. He grinned broadly, carrying her into her room. Hoggle was fidgeting by the bed, looking uncomfortable.

“We can watch over the little lady.” Hoggle murmured, his eyes lowered, his face looking torn. There had never been a fondness between himself and the king, but unfortunately they both held this woman in an extremely high esteem. “It's what we came here for...”

Jareth gave the dwarf a look of near amusement. “I am aware of your ability to take care of Sarah. Sometimes I think she means more to you than your own family.” That leathery face turned red from embarrassment, and the Goblin King found he liked the creature more for it. “However, you and the others give in to her wishes too easily. To take proper care of someone ill, you must be prepared to butt stubbornness against stubbornness.” He smirked. “And none of you can do that better than I.” He kept his tone light as he settled Sarah onto the bed.

Sarah swung at him, half-heartedly, flailed, lost her balance and almost wound up spilling onto the floor. Jareth caught her before she could and grinned at the dwarf. “Besides, there's no reason that only you three should be on the receiving end of the short side of her temper.”

Hoggle gave a grudging grin and headed for the door. “I'll see about getting her that basin...”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Sarah glared petulantly at the man who was acting every ounce the over-bearing jerk at the moment. He even had the gall to tease her as he set her back on the bed. Deep down she knew he was simply relieved. She'd probably given him quite a scare, grabbing the crystal like she had. Still, she couldn't help pouting a bit. This was not how she'd wanted her reunion with the Goblin King to go this time. “Why is it whenever we see each other, I'm always at a huge disadvantage?” she muttered.

He smirked at her, settling himself on the bed next to her, leaning against the headboard. “Maybe, Precious, it's because you don't know how to stay out of trouble.” He divested himself of his gloves and one hand immediately found hers, fingers lacing through her own. He was looking at her and grinning, looking a bit like a giddy fool.

She swallowed hard, glancing away from him, squeezing his hand gently. She'd almost forgotten how soft they were. She could hear the questions in the air between them, but was afraid to ask as much as to answer. So she kept her silence, feeling some mild irritation swell in the man. Fear, unfortunately, caused her nausea to sharpen and she pressed her free hand against her belly, swallowing hard.

“Sarah, why didn't you tell me you were coming back?” His voice was calm, yet a bit cold and she felt herself twitch in anger.

Naturally, that anger made her lash out in ways she didn't really want to. She glared at him and said as bitingly as she could manage, “Why didn't you ask me to stay?”

His eyes flashed with anger and fire and suddenly he was off the bed and pacing, as though trying to burn off his frustration. “I'm not a fool. You never would have agreed in the first place. Your mind was wrapped up worrying about Toby, and let's face it, Precious-” He stopped pacing, turning towards her, his eyes dark, upset. “When pitting your brother against the Goblin King, I'm afraid you tend to go with him.”

His anger fed the flames of her own and she threw back the blankets, getting out of the bed and heading towards her lover, not sure she meant to console him or beam him upside the head with a bludgeon. “Now listen here, Mister! Six years ago, I didn't have a choice! I'd made a stupid mistake and I had to fix it. Besides, I was just a child of fifteen years. You know that, Jareth!” She stomped her foot, unable to express her anger in a different way.

“Get back in bed, Sarah, you should be resting!” he snapped at her.

“I'm not some wilting Violet that's going to fall over if it's not being babied!” She swung at him and he caught her wrist, using it to haul her against him, his hands holding her still. “Let me go, Jareth, let me go!”

“No.” His voice was a fierce, furious rasp against her ear and it caused delightful little flutters in her stomach. A breath rushed over her ear, stirring her hair and then his hands were on her face, guiding it so they could look at each other. She found herself staring up into his eyes and her breath left her. So many emotions mixed up in those wonderful mis-matched orbs.

“Wh...What?” She wasn't sure how she managed to say that, especially standing as close to him as she was.

“I let you go twice, Precious. Once because I had no choice, a second time because you asked it of me. Don't tell me to let you go one more time. I'm not that noble.” The last word left his lips and then they were on hers and his arms were crushing her against him, hands sliding over her back, clutching her through cotton and leather and she felt the fight leave her, her arms coming up to wind around his neck. His tongue demanded entrance, pushing past her lips and doing battle with her own.

Sarah tightened her arms, pulling herself up onto the tips of her toes, responding quite happily to the near-violent kiss he was giving her. His hands were roughly sliding over her, slipping up the back of her shirt, to kneed her flesh. One slipped around, finding the flesh of her breast and caressing it through the bra she wore beneath her shirt.

“What the devil is this?” he muttered, quite annoyed by the contraption containing her bosom.

Sarah snorted in an unladylike manner and he gave her a dirty look. “It's underwear. It's called a brassiere. Like a corset, only smaller.” She couldn't help but giggle at the sheer annoyance on his face and when he lifted his hands to the collar of her shirt, she grabbed his wrists. “If you're going to start destroying my clothing again, my lover, I'm going to have to object.” She said, her tone tart, but amused.

Sassy.

Sassy was good; sassy was wonderful. Then his brain caught up with her words and he stared at her for a long moment, too stunned for words. “Say that again, precious.” He saw shyness in her gaze, uncertainty. He wanted to wipe all of them away.

“I said I'm going to object if you start destroying my clothes.” She didn't say the words again, too afraid, too worried that he would take exception to being called her lover.

“That's not what I meant and you know that, love.” He said softly.

She broke free of his grip, moving to the window, looking anywhere but him. “You heard me, or you wouldn't be asking me to say it again.” There was that tart sound in her voice. His hands gripped her elbows, turning her towards him and she flinched.

“Contrary to what I said six years ago, darling, I don't want your fear.” He said softly. “Now, perhaps I did hear you say it, but perhaps I'd have you humor me regardless. I'm not certain I can trust my ears.”

She lifted her face, looking up into his haunted gaze. “You shared your bed with me,” she said, her voice defensive. “I'd say that makes us lovers.” She saw the way his eyes warmed and her heart stumbled a bit. “I'm sorry, Jareth. I didn't think to reassure you until it was too late. I felt how badly I hurt you as I left you. I...I can understand if you can't forgive me.”

He cupped her face. “My dear one, it is my understanding that to love is to forgive. Since I'm quite hopelessly in love with you, how could I not?”

She stared up at him and felt tears standing in her eyes. She was about to throw her arms around him and give him the best manner of answer she could give him, when the door opened and Arthur entered, Guenevere in tow and a rather irritated looking Hoggle.

“The people in your family are pushy bastards.” The dwarf muttered, passing them.

Jareth gave a faint snort, turning away from her, leaving the words unspoken on her part. “What are you two doing here?”

“When we heard that Sarah was dining in her room this evening, we thought we'd check and be certain she was alright.” Arthur looked amused, as though he knew he was interrupting something. He simply didn't know for certain what he was interrupting.

Guenevere moved towards Sarah. “You look flushed, Sarah. Are you alright?”

“She was very ill not long ago.”

“She puked her guts up awhile ago.”

Sarah huffed, glaring at Jareth and Hoggle, who'd spoken in unison, even if they hadn't spoken the same words. “I'm fine. I've just been a tad nauseous. It's nothing big. I swear.”

Arthur frowned deeply. “This is not small, Lady. If you undergo those challenges, you must be at your peek, mentally and physically. If you're not, then you could fail where otherwise you'd succeed.” He glanced towards Jareth, then Guenevere. “I'm going to call on a healer.”

He was out the door before she could object.

Groaning, Sarah flopped down on her bed, and immediately wished she hadn't. “Ugh...” She closed her eyes, pressing her fist against her stomach.

“Precious?”

“It'll pass...just don't touch me for a second...” She ground her teeth together, trying to calm her breaths. “This timing sucks big time. Why couldn't I have gotten sick a week ago, when I was still trying to find out what the immigration requirements were...” She felt a cold cloth touch her head and saw Jareth kneeling before her, gently wiping her face and cooling her skin. She sighed at the sensation. “Thanks.”

Guenevere was hovering nearby, her lips turned into a worried frown, and Hoggle was pacing the room a bit restlessly. As they waited, Jareth moved from he floor in front of her to the bed beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders and gently petting her hair. They didn't have to wait long. Caledonensis entered the room with Arthur as well as a diminutive man with wild silver hair who sort of reminded her of Albert Einstein.

The physician gave her a brief once over, and then went outside to speak with the old magician, then reentered, Caledonensis wearing a neutral expression, but she could have sworn she saw mischief sparkling in those eyes. “I think we need to clear the room. Everyone out, we'll speak alone with the Lady.” His eyes flickered towards Jareth as the man stood, obviously about to object.

Guenevere grabbed Jareth by the ear and drug him by the ear. “Don't argue, boyo. You may be grown, but that doesn't mean I wont do what I did when you smaller than me and wallop you.”

Sarah felt her lips twitch and when Hoggle closed he door behind him, she pursed her lips and looked at Caledonensis. “I think I'd pay to see that.”

The old man chuckled, then sighed. “Young one, there are many who are of the same mind regarding that. I must, however, ask you a rather uncomfortable question rather than debating the merits of watching Arthur's young queen wallop on the Goblin King.”

She frowned. “Alright.”

He tugged at his beard, glancing towards the healer. “When did you allow Jareth into your bed?”

She felt her cheeks warm. How to answer that...”We had sex first about a month ago.” She suddenly realized why they would be asking and her jaw hung loose. “No...you can't be serious! We only...we only...It was only twice.”

The healer and Caledonensis glanced at each other at her phrasing and disbelief. “He came to your bed-”

She blushed darkly, shaking her head. “Whoever said it was in my bed?! I wound up in his room, now that I think about it 'tricked into his room' is more accurate. I think Morgaine tried to get him to throw me out of the castle...”

“Oh, dear.” They said in unison.

She blushed darker. “Dammit, I should have known better. Daddy always told me to make sure my boyfriend wore a rubber...not that I had to worry about it until now!” She threw her hands up and took to pacing the room. After a moment, she turned towards them. “Don't tell him. Or Quenevere, or Arthur. Please.”

The healer looked shocked, but Caledonensis wore an expression of understanding. “He's the father, he deserves to know.”

“And if I fail? He's got a kingdom full of creatures that he can't just abandon. I'll be sent back and that will be difficult enough if it's just me. Imagine, if you will, if he has to let go of me and a child, his child.” She shook her head, smiling but feeling sickly. “I'll tell him soon, but please...let me bear the news.” She took a steadying breath and gave them both a brave smile. “Besides, if they know, they'll try to stop me. Just tell them that I'm fine. Please, Caledonensis, just tell them that I'm alright.”

The old man examined her face for a long time, then nodded, heading out the door, taking the objecting, sputtering healer with him. Once they'd cleared out, Jareth entered, coming right towards her, his eyes bright with concern. She gave him her best smile and saw him relax a bit. His hands cupped her face, easing it upwards as he pressed a soft kiss on her lips. “You're alright?”

She pulled him closer, pressing her lips against his. “I'm fine.” That kiss led to several more and Jareth swore viciously when there was a knock at the door.

A maid came in, paying them little attention and set a dinner tray down on the little table near the window. Both of them took note of the heaviness of the meal and Jareth glanced at her, a slight frown playing on his lips. “I believe cook thinks you're too slender. Why in the Underground are they filling your plate so much, darling?”

She moved to sit before the food and glanced at the maid. “Please make sure that the Goblin King has a plate brought up as well.” She said, keeping her voice calm. She saw surprise in the maids eyes at the word please and at the implication that it was perfectly acceptable for him to dine in the bedroom of an unmarried woman.

Once she'd scurried away, Jareth sat down beside her, amused. “I think you've given that poor child a heart attack,” he teased, taking her hand. She didn't pay much attention to that. Her stomach was telling her with no uncertain terms that she was very hungry.

She took several bites of the dinner before her and then looked at him. “Perhaps,” she agreed, “but now everyone in the castle knows exactly which bed you're warming, so with any luck you'll have fewer girl's like Alura trying to snuggle their way into your bed.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I'm warming your bed?”

A merry twinkle entered her eyes. “We'll discuss your place or mine later. Right now there's a different sort of hunger that needs fulfilled...”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

The court reconvened the next morning at a rather early hour. Jareth had bathed with her and helped her dress, warming her with gentle kisses as he laced up the back of her dress. “Today is the easy challenge, darling. There will be a trick in it, but nothing life threatening. So just close your eyes and relax. The answer will be right in front of you.”

She took those words to heart as she stood in the simple dress outside the court. Hoggle, Sir Didymus and Ludo were with her, but they were all agitated, worried. When they were summoned into the large room to stand before the High King, she gave herself a little pep talk, keeping her head held high as she approached the center of the circle. She ignored the speculative whispers, keeping her focus on the high king, not even looking towards her lover.

“Lady Sarah of the Above...” the High King began, his face serious. “The time has come for you to be tested by this court. You may not request assistance from any of the court, you are...on your own. Are you prepared to undertake this challenge?”

Sarah squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath. Those kindly blue eyes looked upon her in concern, a concern echoed in Guenevere's. Her eyes flickered towards Jareth, who was giving her a warm smile and it caused a fluttering in her heart. He believed in her.

A movement behind them caught her sight and she saw Caledonensis standing behind the king he gave her a slight nod.

Fixing her gaze upon the High King, she smiled. “I'm ready.”


	12. Chapter 12

Arthur examined her closely and then gave a nod. A page came forward, with a crystal on a pillow. The High King knew that within that crystal would be her first task, chosen by an uninterested third party, to be just difficult enough to be challenging, but hopefully not so brutal that the girl would be unable to complete it. The crystal was offered to him and he lifted it, turning it in his hand.

What he saw made him turn a bit pale. He glanced towards the girl in the middle of the room, who was looking up at him with those glittering green eyes and then returned his gaze to the crystal. “Just outside the City of Avalon, there is a place where the faeries nest to protect grains of gold and silver from those who are greedy and tempted by their luster.”

A chair to his left fell with a clatter and he glanced over, finding Jareth standing, wearing an intense expression.

Caledonensis moved towards the younger king and put a hand on his shoulder, then using magic, righted the chair and gently pushed Jareth back into his seat. They shared some quiet words, but though the words were lost on him, the tone was not. Firming himself, he returned his gaze to Sarah, who had a peculiar expression on her face.

“Ordinarily, to harvest all these grains and prepare the grounds for the next season, it takes a sizable group of dwarfs. They would need a group just to use the repellent to drive off the faeries, another to harvest these grains and still another to sort the gold grains from the silver.”

Guenevere tightened her grip on his hand, leaning close. “There is something peculiar about this mission in particular. This is too much for a single human girl, Arthur...” She whispered softly to him.

“Gwenny-”

“Call the bluff, husband-”

Sarah spoke, her head inclined slightly. “Let me guess, my first task is to harvest them myself.”

Arthur closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Does that mean you accept the task?” He kept his tone neutral.

“I would not be here if I planned to refuse.” She smiled at him, and he found himself taken a bit aback at the knowledge in her eyes. Somehow, from the unease of the court, she knew that she did not have to accept this, that this was not something that would be ordinarily made someone's mission.

“Very well, Lady Sarah.” He said quietly. He heard objections through the court and lifted his hand. “You will not receive the repellent, Lady. You will gather two bushels of grain – one gold, one silver – and you have until sunrise tomorrow to complete this task.”

She glanced down at her attire, seeming to ponder it, and then gave a shrug. “Well, then, succeed or fail, I'll see you tomorrow morning.”

As she left the room, Caledonensis moved towards Arthur, leaning over. “We have a little mouse who is tampering with the test.” He said, his voice calm. “Why did you let her go through with it?”

“She knows something. Something the others here do not. I...have the strangest feeling that she will succeed. Wont that be a bur in our little mouse's shoe?”

Caledonensis frowned deeply, seeming to ponder something. “Very well. I will tell the boy to trust in his mate.”

Arthur clung to his wife's hand, hoping that the faith that he'd placed in the girls abilities was not a mistake. Or else the Goblin King would be severely pissed off. While that might not matter as far as the kingdom goes, as Jareth's Uncle, it meant a lot.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Sarah stared at the field buzzing with faeries and her breath rushed out from between her teeth. “Son-of-a-bitch...” she muttered. It rather reminded her of when she first looked down upon the Labyrinth. “Was it too much damn trouble to plant the damn things in rows? Or heaven help in some sort of pattern?!”

A faery flew close and snapped it's sharp teeth at her. She bared her own, much larger teeth and snapped back, startling it enough that it veered away sharply. Another however, had snuck up and caught Sarah off guard and latched onto her ear. “OUCH!” She grabbed the little thing, about to hurl it away from her, yet when she looked at the small creature she felt a surge of recognition. “Wait a damn second, I know you!”

The small creature looked up at her in puzzlement. Long, silver hair spilled over her palm like a little waterfall and pale blue eyes widened suddenly as though she realized something. Suddenly, the buzzing nearly stopped and Sarah blinked, finding herself surrounded by the swarm of faery. She couldn't help swallow, feeling a little afraid. If these creatures decided she was an enemy, she was going to be chewed to bits.

The small, slightly mangled faery stretched it's wings, flying up level with her face and set a hand on either side of her nose, like it was cupping her face. It studied her eyes for a long moment and gave a surprised keen, then leaned forward, kissing her nose lightly.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. “You remember me.” She certainly remembered it. This little bugger was the one Hoggle had sprayed with repellent just before she entered the Labyrinth. It's little gossamer wings fluttered on the air and she couldn't help smile. “It's good to see you recovered.” She held out her hands in a small cup and the creature sat down.

She felt something brush her thoughts, something strange and alien, but swallowing, she touched back. “Could you...help me? I need two bushels of grain, one gold, one silver...but...everything is very scattered, and I've only got a little time.”

Large, almond eyes blinked up at her and a cry left her lips, echoed by the others. It lifted off her hand and the others seemed to stand at attention. Then, it turned towards the others and gave another keen, and the faeries dispersed, spreading out over the field of grain. Sarah huffed faintly, smiling a bit. “Thank you.” She said softly to the faery that still hovered close to her. She took a deep breath and rolled up her sleeves. “No reason I shouldn't get to work, too...” she decided, and headed into the tall, swaying grain.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

The court reconvened towards the end of the day to check on the progress of the mortal who had decided to take on the faeries to collect the requested grain. However, before Caledonensis could use the large viewing crystal to call an image of the girl to it's surface, the doors swung open and Sarah entered. It was nearly nine at night and she was covered in dirt, smeared on her face and chest. Her dress had several tears on it, and she had a free-bleeding bite on her ear, but besides that seemed fine.

Jareth inclined his head to watch as Sarah made her way to the center of the room, feeling a little dumbstruck and yet he was grinning like a fool. He knew that look of satisfaction on her face. He'd seen it often after she would complete a task. Somehow, this girl had-

The room, which had grown loud from voices shouting in shock at her entry, at her disheveled appearance suddenly went silence as through the doorway, came the two bushels of grain, seeming to float on their own, and atop one sat the faery queen. The small, silver-haired queen had a look of distinct satisfaction on her face as her faery swarm set the two bushels upon the floor behind Sarah.

“CHEAT!” Lance was on his feat pointing at her. “You were told you could not ask for help-”

Sarah arched an eyebrow at him. Noise rose as some agreed and others didn't, spurring arguments around the room. She angled her head, a hint of defiance in her eyes. She smiled in a sassy way and then looked at Arthur. “I was told nothing of the sort. I was simply told that I could not request help from this court.” She pointed back at them. “They're not members of the court. They're the swarm that guard the grain, and I helped one of them six years ago prior to entering the Labyrinth. She recognized me after trying to take a chunk out of my ear.”

Jareth bit his lip hard to keep from laughing at the dumbstruck expressions of the members of the court who did not know his Sarah. He saw Arthur sitting before Sarah with a strategically placed hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking and Guenevere was worrying her lower lip and turning bright pink from withheld laughter. Oh, how he loved it when she caught people off stride. It was refreshing.

Arthur coughed, obviously to clear his throat of the laugh stuck in it and looked at Sarah. “While some may consider that splitting hairs, you are correct, Lady. I said no member of this court. That would not, in fact, include the swarm. And with that, child, your first task is complete. He waved a hand, indicating that the court could clear out. Once most everyone was gone, Sarah approached them, and Jareth hurried over to be a part of this discussion.

“For a minute there, King Arty, I was worried your head was going to pop from trying to keep that chuckle in.” Sarah said wryly.

Finally, he tilted his head back and gave a weary laugh. “Sarah, you are extremely clever, I'll give you that. And to be blunt, it was a pleasure to watch you verbally gut that philandering sod.”

Jareth slipped his arm around her shoulders, placing a gentle kiss upon her forehead, then looked at Arthur. “I'd like to know what the hell was up with that challenge. The first challenge is never that difficult, and this whole situation screams of tampering.”

Arthur frowned deeply. “That is what Caledonensis and I suspected as well.” He looked down at Sarah. “You were very fortunate. Why on earth did you accept the challenge? Did you know that the swarm queen would be there?”

She gave a small smile. “To be honest, I didn't fully understand or appreciate what I was getting into. But I've got some relatives that farm, and you could say I know my way around fields. I didn't expect it to be growing like the seeds had been scattered.”

This troubled Jareth. “Arthur, if the first one was this difficult, what will become of future ones? In all my years at court, I've never seen an immigrant given such a difficult-” He stopped and swore viciously. “Morgaine.”

“She is in custody. If she is doing any tampering, it is through a third party, and one clever enough to escape notice.” Arthur shook his head. “It would not be Mordred, because he hasn't been at court since you were last here.”

Guenevere squeezed the High King's hand. “Dwelling on this will only cause more problems, husband. The best we can do is take these as they come and make certain that a close eyes is kept over Sarah.” She turned towards her and smiled broadly. “I'm glad you decided to come back. Jareth was looking all surly and sulky when he first arrived.”

Jareth pretended not to notice as Sarah gave him a speculative look. “Was I?” he asked, keeping his voice airy, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “I didn't notice.” Gwenny just grinned at him. He felt the girl at his side sag a little bit and glanced towards her. She looked beyond weary. She looked exhausted. “If you'll both excuse us, I need to get this Lady of mine off her feet.”

Arthur gave a near-imperceptible nod, and Jareth guided Sarah towards the exit. With each step, she leaned upon him heavier, and he deeply regretted having to stop to ask one of the kitchen maids to bring up their dinner to her room. Finally, once they were in her bedroom, he settle her into a chair and went to get a cool cloth for her brow. When he returned, she was already asleep.

He set the cloth against her face, gently cleansing her dirt-smudged skin. “Ah, precious. My dear stubborn lady, why do you refuse to let yourself heal?” He watched as her face twisted into a petulant sort of frown, followed by a dreamy smile. “Arthur would give you the time you need, and if it is his decision, what can the court say? You need to rest, but you push yourself. Why, darling, why? You need not prove yourself...”

Her only response was to lean slightly into his hand as it swept over her cheek. He sighed, pressing his face into her lap and wrapping his arms around her knees. “You precious thing...”

Jareth wound up falling to sleep there, much to the protestation of his knees and back when he woke as the door opened revealing a maid holding a tray with two plates. One was exceptionally hearty, and he blinked sleepily, not moving as the girl brought the tray and set it upon the small table near them.

“Will his highness be needing anything else?”

There was an invitation there. Blatant and irritating. He would have snarled, but someone beat him to the punch, so to speak. He looked up and found Sarah looking at the maid, her teeth bared in a threatening manner, her green eyes dark and murky. He stood, guided his ladies face up and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips before looking towards the maid, mildly amused. “Nothing you can give, little girl.”

The maid fled, the door slamming shut behind her. He glanced towards Sarah, his eyes bright with amusement. He made a quiet mental note to never startle Sarah awake, nor to press her bad side when she was just waking up. “I think you sufficiently terrified that maid.” He teased lightly.

She bared her teeth at him, her hand reaching up and fisting in his hair before he could draw back. She stared into his eyes for a long moment, and then pressed her mouth against his, pressing her tongue into his mouth and giving him a much more pleasant wake up than the maid who'd startled him awake. He groaned, pulling his mouth away from hers. “As much as I'd like to follow where you're leading me, I must insist that you eat first, darling. You were very weak earlier, and you're looking a bit pale.”

She pouted, but the protestation on her lips was interrupted by a rather large growl from her stomach. Her cheeks colored with embarrassment, and she huffed slightly. “Then I guess we'd better eat, so we can deal with that other hunger.”

He chuckled, not minding when she glared in response.

Later, they lay in his bed, spooning up against each other, Sarah already asleep, but he was too busy worrying for his lady. The knowledge that someone was tampering with her trials would have troubled him without her illness, but when combined, they caused a great deal of anxiety. He was not allowed to interfere, but he had a troubling feeling that these trials were intended to harm her.

If someone could interfere to attempt to stop her, why could he not also interfere to make certain she had the protection she might need?

He rolled over and snapped his fingers. A goblin appeared at the foot of his bed and crawled up until Jareth could speak without raising his voice. “You are not to interfere with her attempting the trials herself, however if you think that the future queen is in danger, you do what must be done to protect her. I'll deal with the consequences of my actions later.”

The goblin gave him a toothy grin and disappeared.

Jareth rolled over, pressing his face against Sarah's neck, breathing her scent deeply, his lips pulled into a deep frown. As he'd told her before, now that he finally had her back, there was no way he was going to just let her go again.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

After the mission the day before, Sarah decided to say to hell with what the Court thought. She pulled out another pair of sturdy jeans, a comfortable button down shirt she'd kidnapped from her father's closet ages ago, and a leather jerkin she'd 'acquired'. Jareth had watched her dress from where he lounged on the bed in that boneless manner that only he could pull off and make look damn good.

“You know, you don't have to keep doing this, Sarah. You've got nothing to prove.” Jareth had the faintest hint of concern in his eyes but it was mostly overshadowed by the desire to pull her back into the bed and peel the clothing off of her once again.

She paused, met his gaze and finished buttoning the shirt. She sighed, tugging the jerkin on. “Jareth, maybe you don't think so, but...”

“You came back. For me that's plenty.”

She moved towards him, crawled up on the bed and leaned over him. “Maybe for you. To me it doesn't seem like nearly enough.” She flopped down, sitting on the bed and pulled a pillow into her lap. She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. “You don't understand. You can't possibly know how much you've done for me. If not for you...Jareth, you helped me become the woman I am today. By taking Toby, you forced me to set aside my selfishness, my childishness.”

He simply watched her as she spoke, his eyelashes veiling his eyes, making it difficult to read them.

“That first trip, and then again when Toby wished me away...you've done so much. And both times I left you. I didn't want to, not even when I was fifteen. But...” A tear broke free of her control and she swore with vicious precision. She felt his gloved hand gently brush the tear away and she met his gaze, her lower lip trembling. “I hurt you. I want to prove that I'm not going to leave you again.”

Those fingers trailed lightly over her cheek, eventually cupping it and drawing her close. “Oh, Sarah,” he breathed, “you precious thing...”

She closed her eyes when his lips found hers, moving gently beneath them, coaxing her to kiss him back. It was achingly sweet, tortuously gentle. She let her hands come up and trail lightly along his jaw, and nearly said to hell with going to court, let me ravish you.

Unfortunately, a knock on the door drew their attention and Jareth sighed, flopping down onto the bed. “The court awaits us, Precious.” He sounded to her like he'd rather ignore the summons, rather than go spend a day in the company of who he called 'prissy prigs'.

She leaned down, giving him one more gentle kiss before she left the bed and heard him follow. She opened the door and found Hoggle waiting. The dwarf gave Jareth an odd look, then looked her over. “The courts sayin' that you'll be needing to come down now.” Obviously, this left as bitter a taste in her friends mouth as it did her lovers.

Sarah gave him a gentle pat on the head and sighed. “Could you go see about a pack being put together for me? I think I'll need some food and water today.”

Hoggle nodded, then headed off. “Probably a good idea.”

They headed downstairs and Jareth looked down at Sarah in concern. “Precious...” he said softly. “If anything should happen, don't forget the pendant.”

She lifted her gaze and gave him a shaky smile. “Nothing will happen, Jareth. I promise.”

He grazed her forehead with a gentle kiss before he moved into the court before her. She waited until Hoggle returned and slipped the leather pack onto her shoulders. “Thank you, Hoggle.”

“You shouldn't be doin this in your condition, Sarah.” Hoggle said, his voice low.

She paused, glancing towards him. “And what condition is that, Hoggle?”

He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “I'm not an idiot. I had siblings enough to know the signs of a woman with child. Sir Didymus isn't happy about this either. And if that jackass, Jareth is right, then someone's messing with your tasks. What if you or the babe-”

She set her fingers gently against his lips. “The babe and I will be fine,” she said softly.

“Well, you know the drill, Sarah...If you should need us-”

She cut him off with a winning smile and kissed his forehead lightly. “I'll call, Hoggle. I promise.” She straightened and took a steadying breath, then walked into the room. She heard her friends following her, but kept her eyes forward. She, again, heard the same complaints regarding her dress, but ignored them, focusing her gaze on where Arthur sat with Guenevere. She gave a much shorter bow than last time, the pack threatening to smack her in the back of her head should she stoop lower. When she rose, she saw concern in the eyes of the king.

“Lady Sarah of the Above, are you prepared for your second challenge?”

She smiled, nodding. “I'm ready, your highness.”

Another crystal was brought forward. She watched closely as the man viewed it and his face grew concerned. A breath later, the man addressed her. “You are aware of my opinion of these challenges, Lady Sarah, and having looked at this one, I must tell you, it would serve the court better if you consented to wait until the reason behind this is revealed-”

An objection came from Lance. “She accepted to be challenged. Said she has something to prove. Tell us what this challenge is!”

Sarah frowned faintly towards Lance, then returned her gaze towards the High King. “I appreciate your concern, however I would still hear the challenge.” She kept her tone a damn sight more respectful than Lance had.

Arthur closed his eyes and sighed. “Not far to the west of here is the forest where the night trolls dwell.” He said, his voice emotionless. Yet, a stir of chaos came from the others in the room. Once again, Sarah suspected that this was a challenge that was difficult, and extremely uncommon. “Our weavers say that their fur can be used to create wools that are as soft as silks. Unfortunately, the beasts do not take kindly to being...shaved. Your task is this: bring enough of their fur for the weavers to test this theory.”

Sarah pursed her lips. She heard murmured objections, and saw Hoggle about to speak. Before he could, she did. “I will accept the challenge-”

“Sarah! No mortal should be asked to do this! None of them would do it without a fully armed escort of soldiers!” Hoggle gestured towards the court, not noticing the biting looks some of them gave him. “What about you! What about the-”

Sarah dropped to her knees, setting a hand over his mouth. She lowered her voice so the others would not hear. “Please, Hoggle, do not mention my condition. Not yet.”

“You don't know what these night trolls are capable of, Sarah!” He whispered fiercely.

She sighed, petting his head, then lifted her gaze to the High King and Queen, who were looking at her, unnaturally closely. She swallowed, hoping they had not heard her words. “I assume the same rule regarding assistance from the court applies-”

Lance stood. “We all see how well you circumvent that! She should be banned from asking for help from anyone!”

Arthur scowled viciously at the man, then looked towards Sarah. “You may not ask help of anyone for this mission, Sarah. I wish that it were otherwise.”

Sarah glanced towards Jareth, who had a hand over his mouth, but did not look particularly perturbed. His calm settled over her, and she wondered what he'd done to circumvent that rule himself. She straightened, and smiled at Arthur. “That's fine.” She said softly.

She'd scarcely left the room, when a large furry mit on her arm stopped her. She looked and found Ludo looking at her, it's big eyes worried. She patted his hand gently, feeling the concern flowing from him. “I'll be okay.”

Suddenly, she had the sensation of a veil dropping and a picture popped into her head. She gasped, shaken, but didn't pull away from her friend. “Ludo, what was-”

He shook his large, furry head, and his mouth pulled into a wobbly smile. “Sawah...friend...”

She rested her hands on his great horns, tugging him down gently and kissing him between his eyes. “Yes, Ludo. Always.” She took a steadying breath and headed towards the castle exit.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

It was a long, tiring walk, and she didn't have the company of her friends for it. Before she'd head out, however, Sir Didymus had found a sturdy short sword and a slender stiletto to be her companions and protection. Since Arthur had said she couldn't ask for help, she saw no problem in accepting the gifts. The short sword was strapped to her hip, and the stiletto was held loose in her hand.

It was past mid-day when she reached the forest. She'd long since begun sweating, and could feel it trickle in several places that were distinctly uncomfortable. Once she was out of the blazing sun, in the blessed shade of the thick forest canopy, she sighed, leaning against one.

Ludo, her dear friend, had sent her a picture before she'd left the castle, of a beast that looked a startling amount like him. It had long, shaggy black fur, and glittering red eyes. Really, it was the stuff of nightmares. If what she'd heard while before the court, they were also highly dangerous. It worried her, but there was little she could do. She'd accepted the challenge, and she wasn't about to back down and look like she was afraid, even if she was.

A howl shook the tree she leaned against and she swore, darting around the tree. More howls answered and the trees shook harder. Yet, she couldn't deny that there was something about that howl that reminded her more of her great hairy friend than she cared to admit. She moved towards the howling, finding a very large night troll surrounded by others. It's great foot was caught in a painful looking trap. She could see dark red blood trickling into it's fur. It looked towards her and snapped and hissed, revealing sharp, dangerous looking teeth.

The other's heads snapped up and snarled at her, looking fearsome. 

Carefully, Sarah set down the stiletto, and then lifted her hands, trying to show that they had nothing to fear from her. “That's a nasty looking wound.” She said, keeping her voice quiet. “May I help you?”

The great beast looked confused, and glanced towards the others, who were still snarling at her. She set down her pack and pulled out a skin of water. “There's water in this...and I've some bandages. My hands are small, and I'm certain I can get your foot out of that nasty trap.”

It inclined his large furry head, and the others, seeming to notice that she was either very brave or supremely stupid had started to move towards her. He snarled viciously at them, snapping his teeth. They looked back at him, and howled inquisitively.

Sarah swallowed hard, forcing herself to pull out the roll of linen bandages Hoggle had stocked her pack with, and moved towards the beast. She wasn't certain how she managed to walk with seeming calm past the other four hulking beasts which were looking at her in a way that screamed 'meal', but she did, and knelt by the foot of the last one. The trap was similar to the bear traps she'd seen back home except it also had arrow-like tips on them, meaning removing them would hurt. Possibly as badly as being snared in the first place.

She moved towards the beasts face and touched it lightly with her fingertips. From it, she felt a wave of pain and fear and the faintest hint of hope. “I can open it, but it will hurt badly. The tips are made so that they do as much damage going out as going in.” It didn't seem to understand much beyond the word 'hurt', but she got the feeling it got the general concept.

“Hold...down...” The creature muttered, and then howled at it's brethren. They frowned, but held down each of it's four, tree-trunk sized limbs.

She moved back towards it's trapped foot and she examined it, trying not to move it. She found the release and pressed the lever. The creature roared loudly in pain, and one of the creatures failed to hold it's limb securely, and it the creature flailed, backhanding her into a tree.

She gasped in pain, sliding down the trunk, her hands protectively flying towards her stomach. It took her several moments to catch her breath, and evidentially the other creatures were having the same problem. Three seemed winded. The fourth was fully unconscious.

The one which had been trapped slowly relaxed.

Once her breath returned, she moved towards it, and used a twig to close the contraption once more, so that no other creatures would fall victim to it. She took the linen bandages and rinsed it's great leg with the water from the skin. Then, she began carefully wrapping the wound.

“Forest home...” It mumbled. “Sun...painful.”

She looked up, surprised. “Is that why they call you night trolls?” It looked towards her, nodded. She smiled, lowering her gaze. “I'm not from the Underground, but I can draw my lineage here. A few years ago, I wished away my baby brother, and came here first to get him back.” She lifted her eyes again, sighing. “I succeeded. The way Jareth talks, I'm the first mortal. Now...I'm trying to become a citizen.”

“Taking challenges?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “That's why I'm here.” She lowered her gaze. “The mission was to bring some night troll fur back to the court.”

The trolls snarled protectively.

She sighed, tying the bandages. “I didn't think you'd like that. So I want to make a deal with you. I'll help you get rid of the rest of the traps in the forest. When they're gone, would you show me where you shed? I'll just take a little back with me, and that way you all keep your lovely coats, and have to worry less about traps. I'll even show you a way to check for those awful things when I've gone, so you don't have to be afraid of them anymore.”

The large, wounded creature looked at her speculatively and then let out a resounding howl. It struggled to it's feet and Sarah looked up at it, a little nervous that it would turn on her now. Instead, it offered a large, black hand for her to pull herself up with and when she was standing, nodded. “You...harvest fur. Help first.”

She smiled, then nodded. “I'm Sarah,” she offered.

It fisted it's other hand and rapped it's chest. “Septimus.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

The day drug by for the Goblin King. Every few hours, he was pulling out a crystal, checking on his lady, and then would spend the next hour pacing. Finally, Arthur had insisted that Jareth go and spend some time in the library, where he wouldn't agitate the already agitated members of the court.

So he'd retreated to the library, where he'd paced, fretted, and finally forced himself to sit down and read a book that held no interest to simply have something to do besides worry. He was half-way through the third one when a small creature scrambled up his leg and he found himself looking at a very amused goblin. “Where is Lady Sarah?”

“She is guest to Septimus.” It chattered, looking very excited and not remotely worried.

Jareth's jaw dropped and he stared at the goblin. “The Troll-king?”

“Same.”

He called in a crystal and looked into it, his jaw dropping. Finally, he lifted a hand, hiding a smile. Sarah's beast mastery strikes again, he thought wryly, watching her speaking softly to the great troll, as she carefully selected some already molted night troll fur. “Whatever happened that she is so easy around the beasts?”

Goblin smiled slyly. “Good story. Lady would tell it better. But better question is why beasts so easy around lady.”

Jareth arched a brow. “Right you are. Return to your guard, Gruempy. I must have a word with Arty.” The goblin bared it's teeth in a broad smile and then scrambled off. Jareth set the book down, tapping his jaw with a finger. That dear girl was unbelievable. How in the Underground had she managed to befriend-

He smiled broadly, striding to the door. This should throw Arthur for quite a loop. No, the Underground had never seen anyone quite like Sarah Williams, and he'd no doubt they were going to receive quite the education when it came to dealing with his lady. He entered the court, finding Arthur speaking softly to Caledonensis and Guenevere. He approached and called in a crystal. “Take a look at this,” he said, holding it in the middle of their circle.

They all went silent and stared, dumbstruck into the little crystal sphere. Jareth found himself quite pleased with the expression of dumb shock on the face of his uncle, teacher, and aunt. They turned towards him and he withdrew the crystal, smiling at them wryly. “I suggest we get comfortable. My lady should return before much longer.”

He was right. Just as the rest of the court had gathered, and not three hours later, Sarah Williams entered the court, a reed basket on her hip, filled to the brim with fine black fur. Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she moved forward. Most of the court just stared in mute shock as she carried the basket. She winced a bit as she set the basket down, and he wondered what injuries she might have sustained. She lifted her gaze to the king and smiled mildly. “Do you think this will be enough?”

Arthur lifted a hand and his face turned red. Guenevere turned and hid her face in her husbands shoulder, her own shaking from her laughter. Jareth didn't bother to hide his grin. A moment later, Arthur managed to regain control and addressed her. “I took a glance into a crystal earlier and imagine my surprise. However did you managed to obtain cooperation from the night trolls?”

She blinked, as though shocked they'd asked such a thing. “Why I was simply my normal charming self and asked for some.” Her voice held just enough mischief that Jareth couldn't withhold the snort of amusement that left him. Her green eyes darted towards him and she gave him a saucy smile. Then, she turned her gaze back to the High King. “I was told not to ask for help. I asked for the item, not help. So I didn't break any rules.”

Jareth wheezed, trying to withhold a laugh. As it was, a snort left him. Arthur had no better luck. He pursed his lips and a sound similar to steam leaving a kettle left him when they parted. Finally, he managed to speak. “You are correct, Sarah. Asking for the item in question is within the rules...and you've succeeded in your second task.”

She smiled, nodding. “Same time tomorrow, then?”

“No, Sarah. Tomorrow is a customary day of rest. No court will be held. Take the day as a reprieve, and try to let your body recover from your trials.” He stood, and looked around. “The court may leave.”

Once the last person had left, Jareth jumped over the railing, moving towards her. “Whatever did you do to get the cooperation of the trolls, Sarah? I saw you dealing with them, and you were as easy with them as with Ludo, and they seemed just as easy in your presence. Did you bewitch them?” He put his arms around her, startled when she cried out in pain. “Precious?!”

She gently pushed him away. “It's fine.” She said, biting her lip hard. “Must have hit the tree harder than I thought...” She shook her head and looked up at him. “I'll be fine. I just need to rest for awhile, and you'll have to be a little careful with my back.” She lifted her gaze and saw Arthur and Guenevere heading towards her, wearing expressions of concern. “Can we go sit somewhere? Contrary to how cocky and confident I seemed a moment ago, I'm in some pain and I'm exhausted.”

Arthur nodded. “Escort her to the family drawing room.”

Jareth wrapped a hand around her shoulders, and the other beneath her knees, lifting her carefully. He ignored her objections as he lifted her, carrying her to the drawing room and setting her on a comfortable chair. Moments later, Arthur, Guenevere, Caledonensis, and her friends entered.

Jareth took the seat closest to her, holding her hand gently. “Sarah, what do you mean, hit a tree?”

She sighed, her head falling back to the seat. “First, I have something I want to say. I don't know why they're there, but when I entered that forest, I found a troll caught in a rather nasty trap.” She gestured to Hoggle, who brought her pack over. “I brought it with me.” She pulled the large metal trap from the leather pack and set it on the table before herself, wincing. Jareth put a hand behind her back to help her lean back. She moaned softly in pain.

Arthur frowned. “Well, that is troubling. There must be poachers in the forest.” He lifted his gaze. “What happened?”

“Well, I spoke to the one that was trapped, his name was Septimus.” Jareth smiled at the surprise on Arthur's face. “I told him that I wanted to help him, but the trap would hurt to be released. He had four hold him down, but one didn't have a very strong grip, and...I got backhanded into a tree.” She saw concern sharpen in Hoggle and Caledonensis's face. Taking a steadying breath, she continued with her tale, and Jareth listened, gently stroking her back.

How interesting that her friends and his mentor seemed more concerned than even he was. After all, she was here, hale and whole. What had them so worried? The tale finally came to an end and Jareth sighed. “Sarah and I will dine in her room again this evening. Caledonensis, I would have you check her back. It must be a nasty bruise if the slightest pressure is causing her pain.”

Thankfully, Sarah nodded in agreement. “I would appreciate it as well.”

The old man nodded and stood. “Then let's not waste any time.”


	13. Chapter 13

The bruise was not as bad as anyone had suspected. Jareth stared down at the purple-brown slash on her back and wondered how she'd managed to walk back by herself. Especially carrying that rather heavy pack. On her stomach was a bruise that was just as angry, but not nearly so large, and it was that bruise that troubled Caledonensis the worst.

Now, Jareth paced outside of her bedroom, because whatever they were discussing, Sarah said was just between herself and the magician. He was tense and agitated, and he did not like that his future bride had gotten injured in such a way. It made him want to find Septimus and give him the honor of the same gentle treatment. It bothered him that as he'd been leaving, he'd seen Caledonensis place a hand low on Sarah's abdomen, below where the bruise ended.

Still, Sarah was clever, and she was proving it to the courts again and again. Lance had looked positively furious that she'd succeeded. It was as though because his own chosen lover had denied him, he was trying to interfere with Jareth's love-life as well. Lately, every time the fool opened his mouth, Jareth wanted to shut it for him. Permanently.

Caledonensis left the room, a troubled expression on his face. He looked towards Jareth and sighed. “Your lady will be fine. Make sure she rests well tomorrow. No exerting herself. She needs this day, so make certain she does not exert herself. Perhaps you should take her to the library.”

Jareth frowned faintly. “Is there something you and Sarah aren't telling me?”

“Yes.” The old man said, arching a brow. “And it will remain so until she is ready to let you know. I am no happier with it than you, but she has valid points. Don't bother pumping Guenevere or Arthur. She hasn't told them either. To the best of my knowledge, this is between Sarah and myself for now.”

His frown deepened. “That girl is more stubborn than an ass,” he grumbled, pushing the door to her room open. She was laying face down on her bed, her bruised back still exposed to the air. Nearby was an ointment that no doubt was for that dark smear on her flesh. “Has the ointment been applied, precious?”

“No.” She said, sounding weary. He saw how boneless she seemed and realized that her body probably felt like it was supported by nothing more than gelatin. He moved towards her, taking the ointment and opening it. He removed his gloves, then scooped the ointment into his hand, smoothing it gently over her back.

He remained silent for a long time, simply massaging the cool cream onto her skin. “I understand why it happened, but I cannot say I am pleased. Could you have not had one of the other trolls release the catch on the trap?”

“Too small.” She murmured. “You didn't hear them. It was like they could feel the pain he was in. It hurt him a lot more than he even let them know. They were ready to attack me at first. They thought I was a threat. He realized I meant to help him before they did.”

He smiled faintly, scooping more of the goop onto her back, then he set the jar aside, smoothing his hands along the bruise. “It still makes me want to treat one of them to the same manner of affection.”

“Septimus didn't mean to hurt me,” her voice grew quiet, slurred. She moaned softly as he slid his hands up to massage her shoulders. She pressed back into his hands, sighing softly. “The trolls are viciously protective of their people, their land. Really,” she stifled a yawn, then continued, “not so different from anyone else...”

He cleaned his hands off on a square of linen, and then capped the jar, flipping the blankets up over the large bruise. She was quiet, her breathing steady, and he knew she'd fallen asleep once more. He settled onto the bed beside her, gently stroking her hair. It as a great relief that she'd not had any serious harm come to her. Still, it galled a bit to know she was hiding something from him.

It wasn't that she didn't trust him, which frustrated him more. He knew she trusted him. He'd seen it in her eyes when she'd look at him. Those glittering, green defiant eyes...yes that was the problem. She thrived on defying him. He knew, because just as sure as she trusted him, her eyes glittered with joy when his temper sharpened, her excitement increased. Just as much as it excited him when she did.

He sighed heavily, looking down at her with warm exasperation. She hadn't said anything regarding his confession, however in situations like this, actions often spoke louder than words. She was trying to console him, to prove that she wasn't going to leave him again, and she was putting herself in harms way to do so.

Her ear still was red and raw where the faery queen had bitten her, and now she had this sizable, painful bruise. He knew that if Caledonensis had suspected that she were hurt worse than he could deal with, he would have called the healer in. Still, all these injuries troubled him. God only knew what the next trial would be, and Sarah was already weakened due to her illness. She didn't know he knew, but he heard her bolt from his bed every morning, and she'd spend the next several minutes in the bathroom, quietly retching. He knew she'd brushed her teeth to hide the fact from him, because when she returned to his side, her mouth tasted of sweet mint, but she could never quite get rid of the smell of sickness.

He wanted to fight her on her continuing the trials, but every time he mentioned it, she told him in a round-about manner that this was as much for her as it was for him. She was as stubborn as an ass. Unfortunately, that was one of the things he loved about her. Slowly, he slid down to lay beside her, putting his arm carefully around her waist. She made a weak noise of protest and he eased the slight pressure, concerned he was hurting her. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, then pressing his face lightly to the place where she was the least bruised on her back.

After a moment, she rolled towards him, bringing her bruised back to his chest, making it easier to hold her. He rested his hand lightly against her chest, just over her heart, feeling her pulse pound softly against his palm. He could feel the thin chain that held the pendant he'd given her. He could not tell her how it touched him that she had kept it on her at all times. Even in the bath, he had seen it there, a telltale glint against her chest. He wasn't certain why, but since her return, his ability to feel her through the necklace had grown with every moment they were together. Now, he could feel her emotions when they were close like this without her hand coming into contact with it.

That was the trigger. Rather like the fingerprint sensors they had in the Above, the first time she'd touched it, it had imprinted the lines on her hand into itself. Now, as often as she'd handled it without realizing, it would only answer her. Only she could touch it. If a hand besides her own wrapped around it, he would know, and it would trigger the crystals own defenses, burning the person who'd so foolishly let their flesh come into contact with the delicate surface.

It had been meant as a sign that she was under the protection of the Goblin King. Now, she deserved something different, something fit for a queen. Once she completed the tests, he would contact the artisans required for such a creation.

Smiling fondly against her skin, he pulled his gloves off and set his hands on her arms, feeling the softness of her flesh. “Ah, precious. You love making me worry, don't you?” He sighed, wrapping his arms carefully around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his chest. He buried his face into her hair and felt himself finally relax, as her scent wrapped around him, luring him into the clutches of one of the dream weavers.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Whispers in the dark, low, fierce. They argued. They had always argued, but that passion had been a driving factor in their relationship. “What do you mean, she succeeded?!”

The man's voice was just as angry. “It's not my fault! The crystals were switched, just as planned! But this witch is clever! She's taking the rules she's given and turning them to her benefit! Somehow she's charmed the faery swarm and the night trolls! These trials are not working! She needs something more ambiguous...”

“She needs something fatal!”

“There are two more trials. If my way fails this time, then we'll go with yours.”

A long silence, and then the woman spoke again. “What will we do about the woman?”

The man laughed haughtily. “That fool has taken care of herself. The hint that you sent her was motivation enough for her to come here, to stand before the court. Arthur has taken her into custody.”

“And if she speaks out against us?”

“Who would believe her? Everyone believes she's gone insane.”

Two figures leaned into each other, and the whispers stopped.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Sarah woke the next morning in considerable pain. Every muscle ached, and the bruise on her back throbbed. She moaned, trying to roll onto her stomach. However, two arms tightened around her and she became aware of the feeling of silk against her back. One hand rested over her heart, the other was low on her stomach, holding her still. Lips on her shoulder, his nose gently brushing against her neck.

She would have squirmed around to look at him, but she suspected that trying would result in more pain. She turned her head, finding him sleeping, a content expression on his face. She smiled, relaxing and snuggling back into him. She winced a bit and withheld a pained moan. When she returned her gaze in front of her, she found a goblin with a plate of toast.

It gave her a secretive smile. “Ginger jelly. Kitchen ladies say it helps.”

Sarah sighed softly, wondering if there was anyone here besides the ones she'd told the healer and Caledonensis not to tell that didn't know of her condition. She accepted the toast, nibbling on it, hoping that she'd be able to actually rest today. Once she began to eat it, the goblin skittered away and not a moment too soon, either.

A hand slid from her heart and settled on her breast, massaging it, teasing her nipple till it began to ache. She pouted at her toast and contemplated driving her elbow into her lovers stomach. “I'm eating.” She muttered to him.

“Hm.” He agreed.

Huffing softly, she twisted so she could look at his face and saw him wearing that contented, sleepy smile and found she couldn't quite chew him out. “Jareth...” She sighed softly.

He opened his mouth, biting down lightly on her shoulder, just enough pressure from his teeth to stimulate, not enough to cause harm. It caused a shiver to start at the bottoms of her feet and work all the way to her scalp. “That is not fair.” She muttered, and heard a throaty chuckle from the man behind her. She felt his arms ease from around her and he popped up, leaning over her and smiling in that mischievous way of his.

“You say that so often,” he teased, leaning closer towards her, a devilish look in his eyes. “I wonder what your basis of comparison is...”

His nose bumped against hers, and just before he could press his lips against hers, she became aware of the pain the twisted position she was in was causing. He must have seen the pain on her face, because his became a mask of concern and she straightened, laying on her stomach once again. There was a soft, pained sigh and she felt him move a bit from her side, and then return a moment later.

Then, the scent of lavender hit her nose and she felt him smoothing the ointment onto her skin once again. She relaxed under his gentle touch and sighed softly. “Sorry...” She said quietly.

His hand paused, then began moving once again. When he spoke, he sounded perturbed. “Whatever for, precious?”

“You...want me to stop doing the challenges. You keep telling me that I have nothing to prove. And I didn't take your advice and got hurt.” She kept her voice low. “I know you would do anything to get me out of the situation, but...”

His movements had stopped, hands had come away from her skin. “Yes, Sarah. I would do anything for you, and yet you wont let me. But to be honest, I doubt I would have ever fallen for you if you took the easy way out of the situations you found yourself in. You can't see yourself when you're before the court. You're dazzling, precious. Defiant.”

Slowly, she sat upright, once again, shocked at how much pain her back was in. Holding the sheet to her breasts to maintain her modesty, she turned to face the man on the bed with her. He was giving her a look of patience, and she blushed, lowering her gaze. “I love you.” She said softly, lifting her gaze to look at him.

He flashed that dazzling smile at her, and leaned forward, kissing her. “I know, precious.”

She drew back, staring at him. “What do you mean you know?!”

That patient look again and he tilted his head to the side as an amused smirk turned up his thin lips. “Firstly, precious, because you came back. Second, because you're insisting on proving to me that you want to stay. Finally...” His fingers came up, touched the corners of her eyes. “Because the manner which the curse was removed from you.” He cradled her face between his hands, kissed both of her eyes, then drew back.

She felt wetness on her cheeks, but it took her a moment to realize she was crying. His thumbs brushed the tears away again and again and he just smiled warmly down at her. Without a word, she burrowed her face into his chest, not caring as her back protested the movement, as well as the weight of his arms on it. She fisted her hands in the soft silk of his shirt, trying to catch her breath, calm herself.

There was a soft knock at the door and she felt Jareth look up as the door opened, revealing Caledonensis and the healer. Both entered, and moved forward. When he spoke, his voice was colored with mild amusement. “I suppose that's my cue to leave.” He gently extracted his shirt from her hands, pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, and headed to the connecting door.

“Wait-”

Jareth turned, looking towards Sarah in concern. “Yes?”

She blushed darkly, twisting the blankets in one hand while clutching the other to her chest. “You...can stay.” She said softly. She saw surprise on all three faces and took a deep breath. “It's as much your business as mine, Jareth.” She felt anxiety holding her captive and had to force the next words out. “I'm pregnant.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

His beloved Sarah had an amazing knack for completely turning his world upside down, inside out, and destroying it with just a few words. Naturally, his first reaction was shock. His knees suddenly felt a bit like jelly and he staggered back towards the bed, sitting on the edge, uncertain what to say. Shortly after shock came concern for Sarah as well as the babe inside her. He turned, staring at her, and came to realize that for now, at the very least, Sarah was fine.

Finally, came fury.

She must have seen it on his face because she lowered her head, seemed to brace herself.

Even seeing that, he couldn't stop the darker side of him from racing to the surface to yell at her. “You little idiot,” he shouted, getting to his feet and starting to pace the room. “You...and you...” Wow, it had been years since he'd been so furious that he'd been at a loss for words. He looked towards the healer and his mentor and his breath hissed out from between his lips. “Make sure she and the babe are fine, then I'll discuss this with her.” He wasn't certain how he'd managed to keep his voice steady, nor how he found the words and strung them together legibly.

The healer hurried forward, pulled out several gadgets that Jareth did not have a name for and coaxed Sarah into laying down. He pulled down the blanket, and gently palpated the slightly fainter bruise on Sarah's abdomen, a frown on his face. “These two have good strong spirits...” the man said, resting a hand flat, a slight frown on his face. “The lady isn't doing poorly either.”

“Two?”

He didn't realize he'd spoken until the healer looked towards him. Fortunately, Sarah looked just as baffled. The oldest man in the room, however, sharpened, and moved towards Sarah.

“Yes, your majesty. The lady is pregnant with twins.”

The world bobbed, spun, and a strong, slender hand caught his arm and he was being hauled over to a chair and dropped in it. A flask was pushed into his hand and he followed the sharp order to drink it. Once the world stopped acting like a tilt-a-whirl or a child's top, he opened his eyes and found Sarah looking at him in concern. 

For some reason, that was extremely amusing to him. Still, he was furious with her, and couldn't bring himself to chuckle. The doctor was still examining her, had her sitting upright while he looked and palpated the bruise on her back.

“You're very fortunate. That troll must have pulled the blow at the last minute.” He withdrew, started digging through his bag.

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked, puzzled.

“You're bruised, and you'll be sore as hell for a few weeks, but if a night troll had hit you at full strength, you would have several broken bones, possibly a snapped neck. I've seen people's brains reduced to paste, Lady Sarah. Believe me, you were quite fortunate.”

It was gratifying, the way she paled, looked weak and a little frightened.

The doctor handed her a small vial, spoke softly to her, handed her another bottle, and continued speaking. “Keep up with the eating. We'll worry about the rest of this later. I'm sure your mate and Caledonensis wish to speak to you.” With that, the healer headed towards the door.

Once the door was shut behind him, Jareth jumped to his feet, about to have words with his lady, but a fist held strategically over his head scrambled his head enough that he plopped back down into the seat. Caledonensis moved towards her, his face calm. “I suppose you still wish to continue.” It was more a statement than a question.

Sarah's eyes grew determined. “I don't give up once I start something.”

“You're a stubborn young lady,” there was sad amusement in his eyes. “Jareth chose his queen well.” Those intense blue eyes pinned the Goblin King a moment later. “Do not interfere with her choice, young man. You have to learn to trust her, and if you cannot trust her, how is she supposed to trust you?”

The words knocked the wind right out of his sails and Jareth sagged into the chair a bit. “Leave us, Caledonensis, this conversation does not involve you. I...” He swallowed his pride. “I will take your advice into account.”

The man nodded, moving towards the door, and disappearing into the hall.

Jareth put a hand to his face. “You precious little fool...” He whispered, massaging his temples. He looked up at her, feeling bruised and still quite a bit off kilter. “Why didn't you tell me? Do you realize what could have happened to you? To the children?” His children, their children. A surge of joy killed abruptly by pain. “And you wish to continue! You've not left one of these challenges unscathed, and they're going to get worse!”

Unable to sit still any longer, he bounded out of the chair, pacing the length of the room. “Sarah, do you really understand? I'm terrified of what might happen to you. If this is what you want...I wont stand in your way. It may kill me, but I will not stop you. Before that, you have to understand...”

She lifted her gaze, looking up at him. “Yes, I've been hurt. I've faced these trials and I've gotten hurt, been worn out, been through things I never dreamed possible. Yes, I know that. I understand I'll probably get hurt again. But while you may accept me, this world...the people in that court do not want me here. They've made that blatantly obvious. Maybe it's because they hold Lance's word in esteem, maybe it's because you show such interest in me...I don't know.”

His head hung and he sat on the bed with her. “You want to make everyone know that you belong here.”

Her hand rested on his. “With you.”

He looked up at her and felt her drag his hands over, setting them lightly against the lower part of her abdomen. He glanced down at where her hands held his and his breath left him all at once. “Sarah...”

“I'll protect our children. You...just think about the wedding?” She seemed shy, nervous, worried.

He sighed, a small smile turning up his lips and he put one arm around her, pulling her close. “Very well, precious.” His smirk broadened as he pressed his face into her hair. No need for her to know that he'd been planning that wedding since she'd last left him.

They snuggled like that for awhile longer, before they untangled themselves, deciding that it was a good time to bathe, change, and get ready to greet the world. Once finished, Jareth led Sarah down to the room he knew Guenevere and Arthur would be waiting. Upon pushing open the door, he heard raised voices and Jareth held up a finger, a gentle request for silence before leading Sarah into the room.

“That girl is twisting the rules set for the trials! She's blurring the line between right and wrong until there is no distinction! Splitting hairs!”

Arthur saw Sarah standing there at Jareth's side and flicked his gaze back towards the man before him, Lance, who was livid with anger. “And what do you suggest I do, Lance? She has not broken the rules set. She is simply being clever, using her brain to work around the restrictions. That is not against the rules, in fact it is counted on. Has it been so long that we've had an immigrant that you were not at court the last time? She has been given more difficult challenges than I've ever seen and she is triumphing. Why does that bother you so?”

The sound of the man grinding his teeth was audible. He turned on his heal and seemed startled that Sarah and Jareth were standing there. The man shot them both a look of undisguised malevolence, and then stalked out of the room. Once he was gone, Arthur sagged. “That boy has become twisted in these past years. There is some wound that is festering more and more with each passing day...” He shook his head.

Jareth moved forward, guiding Sarah until she was sitting near Guenevere, who looked troubled. “Gwenny, whatever is the matter?”

“He protests too much. He genuinely wants Sarah to fail. And he feels...”

“Wrong.” Sarah muttered, then looked at Jareth. “He hates us. All of us, not just me. I think he despises Arthur and Gwenny as much as you and I...He feels malignant.”

Jareth frowned, settling into a chair close to his lady and glanced towards Arthur. “He wasn't always like this.”

Arthur nodded wearily. “Jareth and he trained together here, under Caledonensis, as well as myself. Lance's sister and a cousin of his immigrated to the Above years ago, and that should have put him in direct line for his father's throne. He was a favorite, however he was arrogant, vain, and had a few personality problems which left him ill suited to rule. His father by passed him and put a distant cousin in charge.”

Sarah frowned a bit, looking at them.

“I suppose he blames me for his own problems. He was offered a position in the high court and he jumped on it, rubbed it into my face for days, as I had not been offered a position of such 'prestige'.” Jareth rubbed his neck, frowning deeply. “Then, I was offered not one, but three kingships. Lance was furious. He was a bit older than I, and naturally he claimed that he should have been offered first pick of the kingdoms. It came as little consolation that I took the Goblin Kingdom, rather than one of the ones closer to the court.”

Guenevere's eyes lowered. “There is something going on with these trials that is bothersome. I believe that Lance is involved. There is greed and envy in his eyes. I do not know how interfering with Sarah and the trials would help him achieve his desires, however-”

“Because if I'm out of the way, Jareth would be left to take whichever woman was left that wanted him, and no doubt they've got someone primed and ready to slide into that particular slot...” She glanced towards Jareth. “Alura.” She pointed out. Surprise on his face, and then understanding. His jaw clenched a bit. “There's something else I've noticed. It bothered me when I first met them, but when Morgaine isn't in Alura's presence, she feels...different. Confused, troubled. I...I want to speak to your mother before the next trial, just to test my theory.”

Jareth frowned deeply. “You'll go with your knights?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

He sighed, massaging his temples. “This whole situation is turning into a quagmire of intrigue. This is why I avoided any of the courts close to the high court. Too many power hungry idiots. Life is much simpler when all you've got to worry about is who stole whose chicken.”

The picture caused a chuckle to leave Sarah, and the sound broke the tension in the room, drawing laughter from the others there.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

It was cold, dark in the tower. The blanket she'd been spared was tattered, scratchy. Her body ached from sleeping on the cold, dark floor of the tower, in the little hay bed that she'd been allotted. In that tower, she was isolated from the world. The only fresh air came from the small holes in the wall, only large enough that she might peer through, too small for her to attempt to end her life prematurely.

It smelled disgusting, and she wondered how many people had died in the this particular spire, wondered if that, too, was her own fate. The smell of waste never quite seemed to leave the air, and the hay and blanket which were her only comforts were saturated with the smell also.

There was a knock on the wooden door and she lifted her face to it. “Yes?” She asked wearily.

“You've a visitor!”

By now she was used to being snapped at by the guards. She lifted her face to the door as it opened and a young woman with dark hair and fiery green eyes entered. The woman was dressed in a flowing gown of lavender, and her hair was twisted into an easy braid. “Hello, Morgaine.”

She hissed at the woman when she realized who she looked at. This was the girl who'd hurt her son! She should just-

Sarah gestured to someone else outside the tower room, and a squat dwarf entered, swept out the hay and took the blanket. Then, a great hairy beast brought in a mattress and pillow. Behind him was a small fox goblin holding some thick bedding. The woman-child stepped from the room for a moment and spoke to the guard in a cross voice.

“That is highly irregular!”

“That room reeks! I don't care what she did to me, she's still the mother of a king! This is unacceptable! How will you explain this to the Goblin King if his mother takes ill and dies?! Or will you shovel the blame off on something else?!”

There was some muttering, and Sarah was in front of her once again. She unlocked the shackles which held her and offered her a hand.

Morgaine could do nothing but look at her in confusion. “Why?”

“Because you were defending your son. At least at first. Before this is over, I'll make sure that you know the whole story. For now, let's take a walk in the garden. You need to stretch your legs.”

Slowly, she set her hand onto the girls, letting herself be helped to her feet and led out of the disgusting room. As soon as they were out, several maids poured into the room. They walked through the halls, and the girl beside her ignored the shocked murmurs, the objections. Once they were out in the quiet of the garden, the girl seemed to relax, those three companions of hers hanging back a bit, giving them some privacy.

“I tried to kill you.”

Sarah turned towards her, a placid smile on her lips. “You failed to kill me.” She sat on a stone bench, seeming to ponder something. “I don't expect you to like me. From what Jareth has said, you felt the pain I caused him six years ago and rushed to his side. So I wont ask you why you did it. What I want to ask is this, when you created the illusion to put me in his room, was that just you? Or is someone influencing you?”

Morgaine felt something brush that idea aside and she snarled viciously. The girl didn't even flinch. “What does it matter?! He was angry, and then something happened and you left him again! You don't deserve-”

“I know.” She looked at the grass beneath her feet. “I know I don't deserve his love, but he does love me. I love him as well. And we've been blessed, Lady Morgaine.” She lifted her eyes, looking at the woman. “I am pregnant with his children. You will be a grandmother, Lady.”

Shock and awe warred within her and she looked at this green eyed woman who stared back at her, her brain connecting the words until they had meaning. “Twins...?”

Lips curled into a warm smile. “Yes.” She lowered her gaze for a moment. “Are you interfering in the tasks I'm performing? Are these challenges your last slice of revenge against me?”

The answer rose to her lips and Morgaine suppressed it, frightened. “I don't...know.”

Green eyes sharpened upon her and saw too much. “You were compromised...When?”

“I don't know.”

Sarah closed her eyes, nodded. “I understand. Would you like to stay outside awhile longer? Or return to the tower?”

She'd have to go there eventually, regardless. She wasn't going to spit on this kindness and seal herself up into that hateful room again. So she sat down on the bench besides the girl and frowned, realizing that somehow this girl must have bewitched her as well. Not using magic, but with the same method she'd done so with everyone, everything else. Simply by being herself, by being kind.

Sarah turned towards her, a faint smile on her lips. “Would you like to hear a story?”

Morgaine considered it for a moment and then, with a very small smile, she nodded. “That sounds agreeable.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

That night, Sarah told Jareth of her conversation with Morgaine, and Jareth's expression saddened a bit. They ate dinner together, she took her medication, and by the time he slipped into her bed beside her, she was already mostly asleep.

The next day, they got cleaned up, and Sarah noticed he couldn't seem to stop touching her stomach, the same place she'd rested his hands the day before. It was as though the knowledge that his children were growing inside her still amazed him. She, again, dressed in a loose shirt, a the leather jerkin, and some sturdy jeans. This she included her walking boots, and slipped her medication into the bag.

Just before they entered the court, Jareth put his lips near her ear. “I know you feel you must do this yourself, but do not forget, those are our children inside you, and I will be most perturbed if anything should happen to you or them. I'm not above going to the Underworld to yell at you, precious.”

She laughed softly, turning her face and softly kissing his jaw. “I know.” His hands tightened ever so slightly on her arms and then he released her. When after he'd left her, Hoggle arrived with the heavy pack and she slipped it on. Before she entered, he tugged on her sleeve and gestured for her to lean down.

“Jareth says there's been someone messing with your challenges. I put in a little something extra just in case. Just for protection.” He released her and when the others arrived, they headed in first. Then, Sarah entered, trying to maintain her calm.

The circle of people was less intimidating than the first time, but now she knew that one of these people was trying to foil her attempt to enter the Underground. She saw Lance glaring down at her, an expression of disdain on his face, and then saw Jareth with that same anxiety that he thought he hid from her so well. Arthur, too, had a look of worry that was echoed by the high queen. “Lady Sarah of the Above, are you prepared for the third trial?”

She smiled faintly at him and nodded. “I am.”

The third crystal was brought forward and Arthur sucked in a breath after viewing it. He glanced towards Jareth, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Those blue eyes returned to her and she swallowed hard. “I would not ask any mortal to undergo this trial, but since it is before this court, I have no choice. You are determined to take it, regardless.”

She nodded once again. “Yes.”

A gusty sigh. “Very well. To the north is a series of falls. The source of these falls is a well spring inside the mountain. The source is guarded by two dragons, among other creatures.” A deep breath. “You are to go collect a sample from the well spring.”

Sarah frowned faintly. This had a different feel than the previous missions. She wouldn't know, however until she tried. “Very well.” She bowed slightly, then headed out. She accepted the map from Hoggle, gave each of them a goodbye kiss, and was surprised to find Jareth waiting for her near the entrance.

He looked at her for a long time, then leaned down, kissing her lips gently. “Return safely, precious...and don't forget, perhaps you can't ask for help, but that doesn't mean you can't accept it when it's offered.” He winked at her, then headed into the castle, leaving her alone to chew on that tidbit.

Again, the trip was long, and she found that carrying the back on her shoulders caused it to jostle rather uncomfortably against her bruised back. She sucked it up, and kept walking, until she reached her destination.

Then, she stopped, dumbstruck.

She stared down the face of the cliff and scowled, letting the pack drop from her shoulders. Far below, she could hear the crash of the waterfall. “You have got to be kidding me.”


	14. Chapter 14

This had not been her best idea, Sarah decided, hearing the muscles in her back screaming rather loudly in protest as she clung to the cliff-face. Unfortunately, it was the fastest way to get down, as there were no paths readily available. At least none she could locate.

It was fortunate that she'd enjoyed rock-climbing in her own realm and had gone often enough with her father to know that not trusting your instincts and your grip were quick ways to wind up at the bottom of a chasm. Her grip wasn't trust-worthy at the moment, and her hands throbbed from pain, but her instincts were still sharp. So she eased from one perch to the next, shimmying her way down the rock face.

“Inside a mountain my ass, Arty,” she muttered, finding a steady perch to press a foot into. She eased her weight down, and when assured that it would hold, she moved her hand to the next grip. “I've gone mountain climbing. This isn't a mountain. You could be a little more precise of what I'm going to be scrambling down so that I don't expect to see one thing and find ass clinging to something else...”

There was a giggle nearby her, and she turned her head, finding a goblin clinging to a hand hold as well, her heavy pack on it's small back as though it didn't weigh more than a pound or two. It smiled brightly at her. “Lady funny.”

She gave a wry grin. “Thank you for the assistance. I planned on leaving it up there, though.”

“I know. But gardener's gift valuable. Should keep close.”

Sarah glanced down. “Something for protection, right?”

“Among other things.”

Sighing blissfully, she eased herself down onto a two foot wide ledge that was a third of the way down the face of the cliff. She could see the top of the falls, and realized that to feed falls this large, they must be fed by much more than a simple 'spring'. There was an underground lake in this cliff. Shaking the thought away, she helped the goblin down, and pulled open the pack. “Let's see this gift. If it's something I can carry on me, then I probably should.” She smiled at the goblin.

It smiled back, nodding. While she searched, the small creature sat down, hugging it's knees.

While she was digging, she found the pouch that usually held Hoggle's vast collection of shiny valuables. She opened it, and blinked, surprised. “Flowers?” She pulled out a few, finding apple blossoms, chamomile, clovers, eucalyptus, pink and white heather, and a wealth of others, some she could name, others which were unfamiliar.

“Protection.” The goblin smiled broadly. “Luck, good fortune, strength in adversity.” It looked up at her, a little shy. “Gardener told Gruempy while packing. Said it was best he could give.”

Sarah slowly closed the pouch, her eyes misted with tears. She looped the pouch on the belt that held the short sword Sir Didymus had given her. “How much farther do you think we need to go?”

The goblin smiled broadly. “Not down.”

Her gaze followed where the tiny creature was pointing and she saw two large dragons, one red, one blue, standing guard. Beneath their claws, she could see the top of the mist created by the water falls. “Well, that's helpful...” She shimmied along the ledge, keeping her back to the face of the cliff as she moved. Her hands felt swollen, tender. She heard her goblin companion following behind her and held her breath as she approached the dragons.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Get your swollen head out of yer arse.”

“Isn't that my line.”

Sarah covered her mouth, trying not to giggle at the words. The voices were hushed, but argumentative.

“Nivaine said we protect the well spring, and protect it we will.”

“But Lapis! That water...can you feel it? It's making steam rise from my scales!”

“I think it feels perfectly pleasant.”

Sarah exchanged a look with the goblin, then cleared her throat. “Pardon me.”

The dragons jumped, which shook the ground she stood on a bit and Sarah was glad she'd maintained a grip with her hand while easing along the rock ledge. This rather reminded her of when she'd nearly fallen into the bog of eternal stench. Two pairs of sharp gold eyes pinned her and she was just a bit unnerved to find that the snout of the two beasts were both as tall as she was. The length of the head was approximately three times her height, and she found that facing a dragon was slightly intimidating.

“Who trespasses?!”

“Who goes there?!”

Sarah arched a brow, looking at the creatures. One's feet were, indeed steaming, and she found that she had to assume that since it was the red dragon, it's interior element was fire. That made her wonder what kind of idiot has a fire dragon protecting a water source. Then, it snorted, and a trail of fire left it's nostril.

She found her voice and coughed, clearing her throat. “I'm Sarah. This is Gruempy.”

The blue dragon hissed. “Goblin...”

“Suppose so,” Sarah agreed, feeling the small creature clinging to her pant-leg. She could feel it shaking in fear. “Is that a problem?”

The dragon stared at her. “Goblins are despicable creatures! Feed on the darker things in life! Kidnap babes from their beds! You'd do well to lose that companion of yours!”

She huffed, resting her free hand onto her hip. “Wow, I suppose even dragons are given to bigotry,” she said, glaring up at the dragons. “I know well enough that goblins live in the dark. So do night trolls, and most of the residents of the Underground. Lucky for me, they seem to like me, even though I've always lived in the light.” She shrugged.

The dragons were staring at her like she was nuts. “What manner of mortal are you that you speak to dragons in such a way?” The red one asked, glaring down at her.

Gruempy scrambled up her shoulder, glaring at the dragons. “This is the Sarah! This is the Lady of the Labyrinth!”

She gently stroked his downy hair, then looked up at the dragons. They were looking at her, their expression suddenly wary. She gave a weary grin. “I'm an immigrant, and yes, I defeated the Goblin King's Labyrinth. I'm going to tell you this, now. I've no qualms with you and I don't wish to cause any problems, but I need a sample of the water from the well spring here in order to fulfill my challenge.”

“And if we refuse to give it to you?”

“I'll do whatever I can to get it regardless. I'm not asking for help. I'm asking you to let me past.” She looked into those sharp golden eyes and let out the breath she was holding slowly.

The blue dragon leaned towards the red dragon and their voices lowered to the barest growls. “Jasper, if she is who she says...”

“It's not possible, Lapis. No mortal can reach the well spring. That's why...”

“It's possible.” Gruempy chirped, it's eyes shining with that shrewd intelligence that was sometimes so apparent in the creatures. “If one of you holds the lady over the water.”

The dragons whipped their heads around, staring at the small creature on her shoulder. It cheerfully played with her hair, and Sarah managed not to smile at the dumbstruck expressions on their great faces. Then, her brain caught up with what the goblin said and she opened her mouth to object just as the great blue dragon grabbed the back of the leather jerkin with her teeth and began lifting her off the ground.

“Oh...crap,” she managed as she was held precariously in the air. “Well...Jareth did say that it should be okay as long as I didn't ask for help...” She just hoped that the giant, scaled behemoth didn't accidentally send her to the bottom of the falls.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth hid a yawn behind a hand, wishing he'd thought to take a nap before the court gathered that eve to check on Sarah's progress. He straightened his jacket and was about to enter the court when Gruempy, Sarah's little guard ran up, scrambled up his back and clung to him, trembling. This alarmed Jareth a bit and he glanced back at the goblin a frown playing on his lips. “Is everything alright,” he asked quietly.

The goblin gave him a sheepish grin and nodded. “Future Queenie pissed.” It snickered, then scrambled down him and out of sight.

With that ominous little tidbit to chew on, Jareth walked into the court and took his seat, noting that Lance looked a tad troubled. Wondering whatever was wrong, he caught sight of someone who was often referred to as his doppleganger standing a short distance behind Lance. He felt his brows shoot up into his hairline.

Two brown eyes caught sight of him and a wry smile turned up thin lips. The man pushed off the wall and headed towards him. When he was a short distance away, he bowed at the waist, eyes bright with amusement. “Your highness.”

“Jeremy, what are you doing here?”

Jeremy smiled wryly. “I came to check on the progress of my step-daughter.” Jareth had to stare at him for a long moment before the man chuckled. “Sarah?”

“Darkness help me,” he muttered, putting a hand over his mouth. “Have you told your cousin?”

The pale haired man pulled up a chair and snorted. “I haven't spoken to Lance since I went Above and married Linda. That one has a rotten disposition. He despises mortals, and that I would chose a mortal life sickens him.”

Jareth exhaled sharply. “It is the belief of the High King that Lance has been interfering in her trials. For God's sake, have you heard what they've been? The field of gold and silver, night troll fur, and now...” he scoffed, “now she's been sent for a sample of water from the Lake of Life.”

Jeremy tapped his jaw, frowning deeply. “The boy's a fool. He probably doesn't even realize that he's attempting to kill a niece.”

That caused Jareth to choke, and it took a moment of coughing to clear his throat. “I beg your pardon?!”

“Isabella? You remember she immigrated to the Above about thirty years before I did. She's Sarah's grandmammy.”

Slumping back into his chair, the Goblin King realized that it made an odd kind of sense. How Sarah managed to hold onto her belief, her imagination. The powers that she was developing. “Isabella was quite a witch, bright, intelligent. She passed that on to her granddaughter.”

“And her grandson.” Jeremy smirked, glancing over at Jareth from the corner of his eyes. “Toby is showing himself to be more than proficient in magic as well. He forced an unauthorized viewer to stop watching. I believe I caught your mother's feel from that one. Tainted and twisted, but it felt similar.”

“You've missed quite a bit.” When Arthur entered, Jareth stood, moving towards the High King. He leaned over and said softly, “Gruempy says the Lady is pissed, which likely means she's on her way back.”

Arthur chuckled, nodding. He glanced over towards where Jareth usually sat and blinked in surprise. “Is that Jeremy?”

“Indeed. He's visiting to check on Sarah, probably at her families behest.”

Once they were in front of Arthur's throne, the man turned towards Jareth, frowning faintly. “How does he know her family?”

Jareth just grinned secretively, then returned to his seat.

Arthur remained standing, turning to address the court. “Queen Guenevere is feeling unwell this evening, and will not be joining us. It has also been brought to my attention that Lady Sarah is returning from the trial. Get comfortable-”

The doors opened with such force that they hit the walls with a crash, and then bounced back.

Everyone looked over in shock. Jareth stared at his lady, bit his lip as hard as he could to keep from chortling and likely putting himself on the sharp side of her temper and let his breath out through his nose.

Sarah Williams walked into the court, dripping wet, her hand tightly around a water skin, several tears in her jerkin, and her face dark with anger. Even from where he sat, Jareth could see that she was trembling in rage. Oh, heaven, what on earth had happened? Did she take a header into the lake or something?

Lance was already out of his seat. “How dare you appear like this before the court!?”

Jareth and Jeremy were on their feet, preparing to go to her defense, when Sarah turned towards Lance, bared her teeth, and snarled at him. The sound wasn't remotely human in tone or timbre. Obviously, her expression frightened the poor sod so badly that he went pale and sank into his chair.

When she returned her gaze to the front, Jareth saw why. Her eyes were glazed, her expression was so far beyond fury, that he didn't really know a word for it.

She walked forward, set the skin on a round pillar in the center of the room. “Water from that lake. By the way, Arty, next time you're going to send me on one of these happy little challenges, it would be nice to know that I'm going to be climbing down a cliff face. My hands were torn up until my little dips in the lake.” She sounded cross, and Jareth wanted to go down to her, take her to her room and let her get the temper out in a better way. If what Caledonensis had said was correct, he was getting a first-hand account of a lady's pregnancy mood swings.

Jeremy coughed beside him, and Jareth glanced over, seeing that the man had a hand clamped firmly over his mouth. His eyes were shining brightly with suppressed laughter and Jareth cleared his throat, finding that now he had to keep a hand firmly planted over his own mouth. Arthur seemed to be having similar troubles.

“Lady Sarah, whatever happened to put you in such a state?” Arthur managed to keep his voice steady, but damned if Jareth knew how.

“Well, first someone forgot to tell me that I was going to be scaling a cliff. Then, after shimmying my ass along a ledge that was about as wide as my feet are long, I wound up having a conversation with two bigoted dragons. It was suggested by an uninterested third party that one of the dragons hold me over the lake while I scoop up the water...” Sarah shot Jareth a look that nearly singed the hair on his head.

Ah, so Gruempy had made that suggestion. And it looked like he would be paying for it.

“Before I even had a chance to say that it wasn't necessary, I'm hanging several feet above a lake inside a cliff, and Lapis tried very hard to be careful, but her jaws are very large and I am very small. After about the third dunking, I slipped through the crevasse that feeds the falls, and it's a good thing Jasper is so swift, or I might have died.” She glared at Arthur. “Unfortunately, Jasper is a fire dragon, and as a result, I got a tad singed on the way to the top again.”

Arthur made a sound similar to a kettle releasing steam, and took a steady breath. Jareth tucked his tongue into his cheek, trying not to laugh. Jeremy, finally let out a whimpered laugh, and it set the rest of the court off. Now, everyone was chuckling, because the story was so ridiculous, but now that they'd seen her go through the other challenges, heard the stories about her in the Labyrinth, they knew it had to be true.

Jareth watched as Arthur sat there, shaking from his own smothered laughter, tears dancing in the man's eyes. The Goblin King felt Sarah's gaze on him and looked down, pursed his lips, trying not to laugh at the mild insult on her face. Their eyes locked, and finally, a grudging smile turned up her lips and she chuckled. “Okay, I guess it's kinda funny.”

Finally, Arthur caught his breath and sighed. “And on that note, you've completed the third challenge...go rest, Lady, you've earned it.”

The court cleared out, many wiping tears from their eyes as they tried to regain control and their normally stoic demeanor. Jareth came down, put a hand on either of her arms, and gently kissed her. “Rough day, precious?”

She leaned into his chest, giving a weak laugh. “You have no idea.”

Jeremy joined them and he gently patted Sarah on the back. Jareth opened his mouth to snap at the man, but Sarah didn't even wince, not even a whimper of pain. Deciding to question it, later, he released her so she could turn to her step-father. It obviously took a moment to recognize him, and when she did, her jaw dropped. “You look well.” He smiled at her, his eyes amused. “And you're taking the Underground by storm, I see.”

“Please do not tell Daddy about the challenges,” she muttered, leaning her shoulder into Jareth's chest. He smiled wryly, putting his arms around her, cradling her there. “I'll tell them if I get a chance to visit. If you tell him now, he'll just fret.”

“He already is. He'll be glad to hear that you're safe. Toby and Caitlin are quite interested in hearing about your adventures when you return as well.”

Sarah nodded. Then, she looked up at her King. “Jareth, I'm tired.”

He glanced at Jeremy and smiled wryly. “My lady is weary. Pardon me, Jeremy. I advise you tell Lance what you told me before you go back and reassure her family.”

Jeremy gave a mock salute, then headed out the door.

Jareth lifted her into his arms, carrying her through the castle. He didn't mind that her soaked clothes were soaking his as well. Once they were in the privacy of her rooms, he stripped her and himself. Then, when he turned to help her into the bathroom, he found himself staring at the smooth, white column of her back. Stunned, he reached forward, touching her skin lightly. “Sarah, your back...”

She twisted, a frown on her lips. “What about it? Is it that bad?”

“The bruise is gone, darling...”

She blinked in surprise, then looked up at him. “Why on earth would it be gone? That should have taken weeks to heal.”

Laughter bubbled out of him and he wrapped an arm around her waist, spinning her in the air. “The Lake, precious. The Lake. Water from the well spring that feeds the falls has amazing healing properties. You must have ingested just a bit due to your repeated dunkings.”

Sarah thought about it and grinned up at him. “Well, that explains why I was feeling energetic enough to go off like that. I'm actually amazed you didn't start laughing first. Usually you're chuckling as soon as I start talking. That was an impressive amount of self restraint, highness.”

Her voice had that sassy, teasing quality that he loved so much.

He smiled wickedly. “If you're feeling energetic enough, perhaps we should make the most of the bath.” He lifted her into his arms, and walked into to the bathroom.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth and Sarah sprawled on his bed, his hand gently stroking her back. She lay on her stomach, asleep, one of her hands pillowing her cheek. He simply lay there, watching her. The sheets rode low enough on her that the he could see the whole of the pale white column and its smattering of freckles. He caressed her skin gently, sighing softly. He would never tell the members of the court, but as soon as he'd learned what her task, he'd contacted Nivaine through one of his goblins to assure Sarah's ability to obtain the water.

He wasn't planning on ever telling Sarah either.

By law, if the courts knew she was pregnant, she would not be permitted to undertake these tasks at all. They were never without danger, and to give a truly fair trial, she should have been hale, whole. If Arthur knew of her pregnancy, he would have demanded that she wait until she had recovered from the labor, the delivery, making her a guest, but not a citizen. He would not be permitted to marry her as such, and she could not be his queen.

Their children would have been born illegitimate, and should they show potential, would have not been permitted to inherit his throne, even if he acknowledged them as his own.

Such were politics in the Underground.

He hated that she was insisting on doing these challenges, would have gone against the laws set by his uncle and married her regardless. It would have caused an irreparable rift between himself and the High King, but he would have saved Sarah this hardship.

Still, it was what she'd wanted, and he had never been able to deny her of her desires. So tomorrow, when she went before the courts, he would sit aside, would let her go stand before the court a final time, because as soon as she returned, he intended on having a hand fasting ceremony with her before she realized what was happening. Not that he thought she'd object.

He smiled faintly, trailing his fingers over the soft skin of her back.

There wouldn't be much pomp and circumstance. A quick ceremony here, to ensure that she was his, then he'd take her home and make her his before his people, would throw her a lavish party, have a huge reception, whatever she wanted. He would bring her family, let them stand witness.

“Just one more...” He whispered, leaning over and gently kissing her shoulder. Closing his eyes, he whispered a soft prayer. “Whatever deity is looking over this woman, protect her well tomorrow. Guard her against those who would cause her harm, shield her from danger. I am not the praying sort, and I do not ask for assistance often. Just watch over my lady a little longer...” He slipped the arm around her waist, pulling her gently against his chest, smiling faintly when she burrowed back into him.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Lance sat at the table, turning his wine glass, and staring into the dark fluid inside it. “Why are you here, Jeremy?”

Jeremy looked at the younger man and smiled faintly. “Shouldn't I be?” He examined the petulant man, seeing everything in his posture screaming of anger, rebellion, hatred. “Are you interfering with the trials?”

Blue eyes met brown, and showed a level of rage that Jeremy had never seen before in his young cousin. “And if I am? She's just some mortal slut whose wormed her way into the bed of the Goblin King!” Lance tipped back the glass of wine and gulped it down, cringing a bit at the taste.

Jeremy rubbed his index finger along his upper lip, just watching Lance, his mouth pulled into a faint frown. When had the bright-eyed boy given way to this petulant, angry young man, Jeremy wondered, lifting the glass and taking a delicate sip of the heavy wine. “I'm sad to hear you say that, Lance.” He swirled the wine in his goblet, watching the liquid dance against the glass. “To answer your question regarding why I am here, my wife asked me to look in on her daughter.”

Lance looked towards him, a slight frown playing on his lips.

“I met Linda several years before I left the Underground. Really, it was close to a decade. I was in the Above on a vacation, visiting Bella. I clowned around town with her son, Robert and met Linda at the small local theater that we visited. I fell in love with her almost straight away. Still, my brain convinced my heart that it would be best that I return and I started taking steps towards immigrating at that point.”

The younger man wore a deep frown. “What does Isabella have to do with this?”

Jeremy smiled faintly, inclining his head. “While I was gone, Linda and Robert married, Linda gave up the theater, and they had a daughter.” Brown eyes pinned him. “Then, when the girl was eight, I'd finally procured permission to return permanently and marry the mortal who held my heart and Linda left Robert and ran away with me. Later, Robert remarried a pleasant woman named Karen. They had a son, and Linda and I had a daughter about two years later. Recently, I learned that the daughter that Linda bore Robert had deeper connections to the Underground than her father.”

Realization was dawning upon Lance, Jeremy could see it happening.

“The girl's name is Sarah. She's my step-daughter, and a cousin. However...she's your niece.” Jeremy stood, setting his still mostly full wine glass onto the table top and pinned his cousin with a look. “So I'd advise you to reassess your priorities. She's a bright light, a rare spirit. She's here because she was drawn to this world to find something she lacked there. If you stop her, if you intentionally make her fail, so help me, I'll bring Robert and you can explain to Bella's son why his daughter is in the Above instead of with the man that holds her heart.”

With that, Jeremy strode to the door, and closed it behind him. He closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath and leaned against the wood, deciding that he needed to get a good night's sleep before returning home to his Linda. He headed off to the room he'd been given and hesitated before he entered the room. Finally he entered, shedding the jacket and sat down in one of the chairs in the room. He leaned against the cushion, rubbing the tension out of the back of his neck.

He couldn't go back yet.

He wanted to, how he wanted to, but going back and not having a firm answer regarding their daughter would just cause the others to worry. So he would remain tomorrow, for the reading of the next task, until Sarah returned to the castle, win or fail. He would stay and give his step-daughter the added support of another shoulder to lean upon.

He only hoped that his foolish cousin would heed his warning, because if anything happened to Sarah, he wouldn't have to bring Robert to tear Lance a new ass hole. Jareth would destroy the man before he ever reached the veil. There wouldn't be any body parts big enough to find.

Jeremy had always known that Lance wasn't suited to be a king, even to a small and 'unimportant' land like the Goblin Kingdom. He was selfish, arrogant, and cared far too much about himself to let the little concerns of the day to day lives of his people get in the way of what he wanted. Arthur had seen it, Caledonensis had seen it. Likely, Jareth had as well, he simply hadn't said anything about it.

Jareth was selfish and arrogant as well, however, while he strove to attain what he longed for, he never forgot that he was a king, and never neglected those he ruled. He may indulge briefly in dramatic theatrics, but quickly enough he'd settle into a routine, get his ass in gear, and take care of his own.

Jeremy sighed softly, tapping his cheekbone. Yes, Sarah had some substantial connections in this realm. She obviously didn't know how strong. Through her connection to the Goblin King, half of the Underground was tied to her. Due to her easy personality and quick wit, she had nearly the other half already wrapped around her little finger. She'd already won the hearts of the court, and she didn't even realize it.

Those stoic faces turned red from laughter had been brilliant. He was going to have to convince her to write her stories down, and take them to the Above and get them published. She'd have best-selling novels on her hands.

If she survived this next challenge, however that boy chose to tamper with it.

Scrubbing his face, Jeremy decided he was too tired to think about it. He would worry about it further tomorrow.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth opened his eyes and nearly panicked when he felt Sarah wasn't beside him. The room was still mostly dark, hued pink and purple in the dawn light. Rolling, he found Sarah standing by the window, the sheet wrapped around her, staring out across the land. He smiled, watching her. “Why is there an angel standing at the devil's window?” he teased lightly.

She turned towards him, a slight smile on her own lips. “Probably because she fell in love with that devil.” She moved towards him, kneeling on the bed. Leaning over, she lightly kissed his lips, her dark chocolate hair spilling around his face.

He deeply breathed in her scent, lifting his hand and catching the back of her neck when she tried to pull away from him. “My lady...” he murmured, staring up at her. Her pupils were dilated, a wide circle of black surrounded by a ring of mossy green. He heard the possession in his voice, but she didn't draw back.

Instead, her eyes heated and one of her soft hands brushed his hair back. When she spoke, her voice was just as possessive. “My king.”

He smiled at the words, a thrill of victory flashing through him. “Always, darling.” He would have pulled her down for a brief tumble between the sheets, however, he could see the sun slowly rising in the sky and sighed. “Would that I could keep you in bed with me all day, but unfortunately, we have to go learn your next challenge...”

She cupped his face, kissing his lips lightly. “I know.” She rested her forehead against his and then sat upright. He sat up behind her, slipping his arms around her torso. They sat as such for awhile, watching as the sky turned pink, and then blue. Finally, grudgingly, he unwound himself from around her, gave her a gentle kiss, and went to his wardrobe to get dressed.

As he did, Sarah rose, and he thought she would go to her own room to dress, but instead, she came over to him, and stood beside him. She laced a hand through his, but didn't turn to face him. “May I borrow one of your shirts?”

Surprise and pleasure ran through him as he turned to look at her. “Not that I mind, precious, but why?”

Her eyes turned towards him and he saw mild fear in her eyes. No, not mild, hidden. He could feel her small hand shaking in his. She took a steadying breath. “In the days of knights, during jousting tournaments, a lady gave the knight something for luck, to show her favor.”

He reached in, found a billowing silk shirt and pulled it down. Wrapping it around her shoulders, he used it to pull her gently closer and kissed her forehead. “In that case, feel free.” He pulled back, feeling the same fear in her scraping at his own heart. He tightened his hands around her shoulders briefly, then released her. “You should go get dressed,” he said softly, fighting against the urge to touch her.

She gave him a wobbly smile, and then, wearing only his shirt, hurried to her own room. He watched her go, his throat tight. This was the last chance whoever was interfering in these challenges would be able to stop her. She just had to get through this last challenge. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, fisting his hand against the wooden door of the wardrobe. “Just once more...” he whispered.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth didn't walk down to the court with her today. She knew why. She'd seen his tension before he'd sent her to get dressed. She knew that if he saw her too much today, he would give in to the villain inside him and would just spirit her away to his castle. He was avoiding her so that she would be able to finish what she'd started. Standing outside the court, she wrung her hands so hard that the bones ached.

She'd dressed simply, but not as she had for the last two challenges. She'd gone with a loose, comfortable skirt, Jareth's shirt, and the thick brown vest that she'd brought with her from her world. The crystal pendant hung around her neck, and she'd tied her hair back in a thick braid. She'd had to forgo her comfortable walking shoes, instead wearing some soft leather shoes that Ludo had brought to her. A wide belt went around her waist and strapped to it was the sheathed short sword from Sir Didymus, as well as Hoggle's own gift of protection. Guenevere had given her the silver clasp that held her braid, Jeremy had given her a wide silver bracelet that was a gift from her family. Caledonensis had visited her briefly that morning, placing his hands on her shoulders, recited some words she didn't recognize, made a symbol in the air above her and left.

She was surrounded by gifts from friends and family.

Looking up, she saw her oldest friends from the Underground approaching her, and she saw Hoggle's eyes water a bit when he saw her wearing the leather pouch at her hip, next to the short sword. He set the pack down in front of her, and gave her hands a squeeze. She knelt, putting her arms around her two shorter friends. “Thank you.”

Hoggle whispered in her ear, “Arthur gave us something to put in your pack. Big black cloak, it looked like. Had a good sized clasp on it. He wishes you luck.” He patted her back. “We all do.”

She felt her own eyes water and kissed each of her friends on the forehead. “Thank you.” She stood and wiped her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Let's get this show on the road,” she said, strapping a little extra steel on her spine, and then pushed open the doors. Whispers when she entered. Approving nods. Lance didn't speak. He seemed troubled and was looking anywhere but at her. It came as a slight surprise when she saw Jeremy was again sitting beside Jareth. Both men gave her a faint encouraging smile and she steadied herself, heading to the front of the room.

Arthur and Guenevere sat before her and she saw their hands were entwined so tightly their knuckles were white. She stopped before them and bowed at the waist. “Good morning, your highness.” She smiled, trying to reassure them.

Arthur gave his wife's hand another squeeze before extracting his own. “Lady Sarah of the Above. You have met and succeeded in your first three challenges. This shall be your last. Are you prepared?”

“I am.” She said, straightening. She watched as the trembling page came forward, and Arthur took the crystal waiting.

Arthur took the crystal and his eyes widened in surprise. Quickly, however, he regained his composure. “Your final mission, Lady Sarah, is to travel to Castle Corbenic and heal the Fisher King.”

Sarah felt her own brows jump clear into her hairline. Several voices around her cried out in surprise. “The Fisher King? Like Bran the Blessed? Like the Grail-Myth Fisher King?”

Arthur's eyes flickered towards Jareth, who had a frown on his face, and was wearing an expression of confusion, curiosity. After a moment, he returned his gaze to her, nodding. “Do you accept the challenge?”

She frowned faintly. This seemed too easy. Then again, if she hadn't known the Grail Myth, hadn't known of the Fisher King, it would have likely baffled her. Still, she nodded. “I do.” She said after a moment. There was something troubling about the anxiety on the face of the High King, as though he also believed that something about this wasn't quite right. She shouldered her pack and headed out. Jareth didn't follow.

It hurt a bit, but she knew why he didn't follow this time. Win or fail, everything rode on what happened now. She would either be welcomed back a citizen, or told she had to return home. Before she headed out, she heard a voice call her name and turned, finding Lance standing behind her, looking uncomfortable. She frowned as he approached her, something in his hands. He held them out to her.

She didn't move.

He looked at her, then turned his hands over, opening them. They were leather gloves, looked to be high quality. On the back was a Celtic knot work design. She lifted her eyes, looking up at him, very uncertain. He stood there for a moment. “Take them. It's all I can give. I...didn't know.”

“Know what?”

He took an unsteady breath. “We...are kin. Your grandmother was my sister.”

She blinked, then pondered that for a moment. Jeremy said that her grandmother, Izzy, was his cousin. That made Lance...”Ho~kay. That's a weird, random coincidence.”

He lowered his gaze, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Just...take them. It's a peace offering. Good luck.”

She accepted the gloves and without looking at him, slipped them onto her hands. They fit perfectly. She flexed her hands in them and looked up. “Thank you,” she said and just to taunt him a little, added, “Unccie.”

She was rewarded when his eyes bugged out a bit. She smiled cheerfully, heading out the great castle entrance. She made her way, tugging out the map Hoggle had passed to her just after she existed the throne room and walked down the stairs, not paying much attention to the people who watched her pass and whispered amongst themselves.

She didn't care about the whispers, the rumors. She was rather getting used to being food for them. No doubt her clothing caused controversy, her appearance wasn't traditional or commonplace. Pale hair, blue eyes, and fair skin were favored, although there were a smattering of people with dark hair. Her hair was so dark it was nearly black, her eyes were green, an eye color she'd been told was rare. Her pale skin was always freckled, and had grown more-so from her recent time in the sun.

No, she wasn't typical, but the Goblin King favored her, a common mortal from the Above, above those who were of his own class here in the Underground. She wasn't delicate, wasn't frail like so many of the ladies of the court.

She wasn't like them, wouldn't ever be like them.

And that was just fine with her. More importantly than that, however, was that it was just fine with Jareth as well. The Goblin King loved her, wanted her, because she wasn't like those other women.

So she wasn't going to change to suit the rest of the Underground. She'd gotten this far as Sarah Williams and she'd be damned if she became someone else to be beside the man she loved.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Lance stood in the darkened corridor, waiting. He knew when she had arrived, but stepped back when she reached to touch him. He felt her shock, but couldn't do anything else. He couldn't knowingly betray his own blood, even knowing that Sarah was from the Above, the granddaughter of the sister who'd abandoned him in the Underground.

“Lance, whatever is the matter?”

He lifted his gaze, looking into those blue-green eyes of the woman who was currently his lover. They were lovers, but they didn't love each other. They were together because it was convenient, because by being together, they were reaching towards their own ambitions. “I'm turning myself in,” he said, keeping his voice low and even.

Shock, fury in those eyes, set in that delicate face. “What are you talking about?!” she hissed. “Are you trying to ruin everything we've begun to build?!”

He straightened, that haughty arrogance that was bred into him reigning supreme. “It is not my job to explain myself to you,” he sneered.

“We're so close! She'll get the grail, she'll succeed that far! I put a compulsion spell on the box, when it opens-”

“No...” he whispered, stunned. “Dammit, woman, I may have stood beside you until now, but I'll not hang myself as you are!” He turned on his heal, walking away swiftly, going to find someone who could stop what he was deathly afraid would happen. If that girl wasn't reached in time, if that woman's plan worked, then he would lose the only remaining family he had in the Underground.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Sarah sat beside the river she followed, idly wondering if this river was fed by the falls she'd visited just the day before. That thought made her remember the two bickering dragons, Lapis and Jasper, and she chuckled softly. She'd settled at about mid-day, deciding that she needed a break and a snack. She found in her pack that her friends had packed her a hearty meat sandwich, a skin of water, a bag of grapes and some biscuits.

She'd also pulled out Arthur's gift when she'd stopped, since the day seemed to be cooling off as she traveled. It had gone from pleasantly warm at Arthur's castle, but now the sky was partially overcast, and the wind bit her skin through the silk of Jareth's shirt. The gift was a lovely cloak made from soft, warm black fabric. The clasp was silver and gold, and extremely feminine and delicate. So, wrapped in the gifts, she sat, eating her lunch, watching fish pass her by in the river.

Once the majority of the food was gone, she stood, moving to follow the river once more. As she moved, the temperature continued to drop, until rain started to fall. She pulled the hood up to shield her head from the rain, at least for awhile. The cloak was obviously waterproofed somehow, because the rain simply beaded on it and rolled off.

She'd walked for what seemed like hours, when she heard someone singing a song in a language she didn't understand, but the voice was gusty, rich and strong. She glanced in the direction of the sound and found a man towards the end of his prime or just slightly past it. He sat on the edge of the river, wearing breeches which were in good repair, and a silk shirt which was completely soaked from the rain.

“Wel dyma ni'n diwad  
Guefeillion diniwad  
I ofyn cawn gennad  
I ofyn cawn gennad  
I ofyn cawn gennade I ganu.

Qwychw yr hyfder  
Rywle rhy drws ar agorwch chi?  
I ganu mae'm gwraig  
I ganu mae'm gwraig  
I ganu mae'm gwraig am gwrw...”

Sarah inclined her head, moving towards the man. The song was light, but he sung it in an almost chanting manner, making words which had no meaning to her seem like something holy, something that should ordinarily be sung in a place of worship. He paused, inhaling to begin the next verse before he noticed her and the breath left him slowly instead.

His hair was black, heavily silvered at the temples. His eyes were sharp, dark blue. His skin was heavily weathered. His long fingers held the line he'd cast into the water. He didn't say anything, simply watched her.

“I didn't mean to intrude,” she said softly. “I heard you singing. It was lovely.”

The expression softened slightly, a small smile turning up those thin lips. “Thank you, Lady,” he replied. “What brings you this way?”

She smiled ironically. “Immigration requirements.”

Interest flickered into those blue eyes. “You're from the Above...of course. You wouldn't be the first. You wont be the last. Still, those requirements don't ordinarily lead one this way.” He examined her closely. “Have a seat, child, you look weary.”

She was. She wouldn't admit it, but she was tired. “So, what was the song you were singing?”

He smiled indulgently. “Mari Llwyd. I suppose in Arthur's tongue, it would be 'The Gray Mare'. Don't ask me to translate further.”

She grinned wryly. “I understand that. I took Spanish in high school, and whenever they'd tell us to translate something more than a sentence into English, I was lost, even though I understood it, trying to change words that made sense in one language into ones that would make sense in another...” she shuddered.

He chuckled. “Indeed. So, tell this old man what challenge Arthur sends you this way with?”

She grew serious, considering him. “I'm not certain I should tell you.”

He looked genuinely surprised. “Why ever not, child?”

She smiled faintly. “Every time I tell what my mission is, I wind up with people trying to help me, and just once, it'd be nice to do it myself. Besides, this time I think I've got a handle on what needs done.” She wrapped her arms around her knees, not minding as the cold rain began wetting her skirt. “You're the Fisher King, aren't you.”

The look of surprise turned to wariness. “Whatever do you mean?”

She gave him a patient look, even though irritation scraped at her. “You're sitting along a river, fishing, dressed in clothing that's as fine as what's in the closet of the Goblin King. I'm a smart girl and I know my mythology. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here.” She sighed, looking into the distance. “Someone's been mucking with my challenges, giving me ones that are supposedly far more difficult than what is the norm.”

He frowned slightly. “Knowing that, Arthur is making you endure these challenges anyways?”

She laughed. “If Arthur or Jareth had their way, I wouldn't be doing these challenges at all. Arthur was ready to just let me in. He knows me and he knows what I've done, and...” She felt that warmth in her chest that she always felt when she thought of Jareth. “He knows how I feel for Jareth.”

“Then why are you?”

She just shrugged and laughed a little. “I'm stubborn.” She sighed, rocking back and forth a bit. “Jareth has done so much to show his feelings for me, and I've left him twice, even knowing that. This is my way of making it up to him.” She looked towards the man and offered her hand. “I'm Sarah.”

“Bran.” He offered in return.

She grinned broadly. “So you were singing in Welsh?”

His brows shot up in surprise. “You're familiar with the tongue?”

“If only.” She inclined her head. “I'm familiar with mythology. Very familiar. Since I could read, I've had a book in my hand. I've done research on Arthurian myths for fun, and so I've read about the Fisher King, or Bran the Blessed. Unfortunately, my ability to understand languages is not particularly high. The state library had books I'd have loved to read if I'd been able to grasp what I was reading. It was painfully frustrating trying, and I eventually threw up my hands.”

“You should have Arthur teach you some languages.”

She snorted. “Jareth will probably try to teach me, and we'll spend the whole time at each other's throats. She laughed. “I still find it funny that I fell for that man. He's so infuriating sometimes.” She waved a hand vaguely.

Bran regarded her for a long time. “Lady Sarah, I realize you're likely on a tight schedule, but would you care to come up to the castle and rest for awhile? Dinner will likely be served soon, and I would appreciate the company.”

A small smile turned up her lips. “That sounds just fine, your highness.”

The walk to the castle didn't take as long as one would think, but they had to move slowly, because of the wounds to the man's legs. Sarah walked alongside him, close enough to prevent him from stumbling on the rocky terrain, but far enough away that she let the man keep his pride.

And proud he was. He walked with the pronounced limp, using a sturdy walking stick, but he kept his back straight, refusing to appear invalid. Now that he was standing, she could see that he was a good bit shorter than Jareth or Arthur, standing scarce more then two inches above her height of five-foot-six. He seemed rather stocky, his arms seeming large, compared to the willowy limbs of those she'd met in Avalon.

Not long after entering the castle, she noticed a young woman walking the halls carrying a spear dripping with blood. She was given a tour of the castle, even though she noticed that the wound had long since begun paining the man. Finally, she asked to sit and rest, using her own weariness as an excuse, but really she couldn't stand to watch him push himself further.

He led her to a large dining room, and as they ate, the same youth passed the open doors. Other young people walked past, one carrying a glowing up. She slanted a look towards the man who was her host. “Is it wise to have the grail paraded around? Although I suppose you haven't much choice. If it was hidden away with the spear, and no one saw it no one would ask.”

His eyes sharpened upon her.

“I told you, remember?” She smiled a bit. “I know the Arthurian Myths. That includes the Grail Myth, Bran.”

He smiled in answer and there was a sharp hope in his eyes.

“Would you please tell me about the spear and the cup?”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth was reading in the castle library when Lance found him. The man was out of breath, covered in sweat and had a look of mild panic about him. Jareth looked up as he burst through the door, a faint frown upon his lips. “Lance, what are you doing here?”

“You have to stop Lady Sarah. I don't know for certain what's been done, but Alura did something. She wants that girl dead, and if you don't stop her, she'll die.”

Jareth's jaw set. “If I stop Sarah and do not give her the chance to finish this, then-”

“That woman has something planned. She wanted to kill her at the first challenge, she's been trying to convince me to do something more permanent that just having her fail at a challenge!” Lance struggled to catch his breath, to stop ranting and raving like a lunatic and The Goblin King watched him closely. “She's my niece, dammit! I can't just sit back!”

Mis-matched eyes fell closed and Jareth sighed, closing the book slowly. He called in a crystal and glanced into it. He threw his intention at the surface and he swallowed hard. Shadows on her face. Sarah, his queen, had shadows on her face. A sign of misfortune. He gave Lance a sharp look and snarled. “Find the High King. He'll be in the Lady Guenevere's quarters. Find him and tell him I'm going to Sarah.”

With that, Jareth tore through the castle, finding the water skin Sarah had brought with her after her last mission and grabbed it, checking the contents. He could feel the magic crackle off the water and changed to his bird form, taking the nearest window, the skin clutched tightly in his talons.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

The story was long, but she could already see the difference in the man. They'd adjourned to a drawing room for privacy, and he'd taken to pacing, his limp now gone. She knew she'd already passed the challenge, but simply having done it wasn't proof enough. She would need to bing proof of her success to the High King and before the court.

He seemed to notice that she was distracted. After awhile, he looked towards her. “Lady Sarah, your body is here, but your mind is elsewhere.”

She frowned faintly, looking up at him. “I'm glad you're healed. That was my challenge, you see. I don't think the person who was tampering realized that I would know what to do. I don't think...” She pursed her lips. “This is too simple. There is a trick in this, and I don't know what it might be.”

His face was surprised. Then, his lips turned into a faint smile. “This is why you did not tell me what you challenge was.” At her nod, he chuckled. “I suppose you will need to bring proof of it to Arthur. Would you consider the Grail sufficient?”

She blinked, looking up at her host. His expression was kindly enough, a question in his eyes. “You would let me take it?”

He nodded. “You've done more for my own kingdom than you are likely aware. So I would let you take the Grail.”

Her lower lip trembled a bit and she firmed it, dashing the tears from her eyes. “Then I'd better find something to transport it in...” She pulled open her pack, digging through it, until she came in contact with a box. She pulled it out and huffed. “Someone must have put this into my pack. Probably Jareth. He'd know I'd want to guard whatever my proof was...” She smiled, tracing her bare hands over the wood.

Suddenly, wrists tightly grabbed her own. “Do not open this box.” Bran's dark blue eyes met her green ones with a surprising intensity. “Child, do not open this box-”

The warning was understood, but something was enticing her, coaxing her. Her trembling hands fought against the urge and she swore softly. “I can't stop it,” she whispered, gripping the lid in her hands. Tears pierced her eyes and she lifted her gaze to Bran. “I can't stop it.”

Sarah opened the box.


	15. Chapter 15

The parlor was nearly silent, save for the faint sound of fingernails against wood. The High King of the Underground sat beside his lady, one hand fisted against his mouth, the fingers on the other drumming lightly against the arm of the chair. A grim frown pulled down his thin lips. Guenevere was troubling her lip with her teeth, deep in thought.

Lance had come in moments ago, obviously torn between various emotions. There was a maliciousness curbed only by the faintest hopelessness in his eyes as he told them of the danger Sarah was in, how Jareth had already gone after her. Concern for Sarah, who he must have discovered was now his only relative who would reside permanently in the Underground. Hatred for Jareth, who he still believed had taken his rightful place in society.

Now, the man stood, trembling in fear for his own part in this was too great to be ignored, and he did not have a chance of dodging the sentence that awaited them. It had been made blatant that he'd been the one interfering, and while it was in question, he could not be punished. Now, however...

So many of his laws broken, so many protocols shattered. Those ancient rules were in place to protect those who would come to the Underground, seeking what they lacked in the above, rules that protected the Underground from them as well. Death spells sent into the above to snare mortals for petty reasons, interference in challenges meant to test ones mettle, to test their sincerity and desire to become a citizen.

Rage swirled just beneath the surface. It took a long, deep breath to leash the rage he felt. “Where is Alura?” he asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Lance, keeping his head bowed, was silent for a long moment before he spoke. “Her father is a member of the court. She has been staying in his room to hide from both the Goblin King and his lady.” He had the decency to look ashamed. “That...or my own.”

The rage inside strained against the hold he had on it, but Guenevere rested her hand upon his, soothing his temper. “It would seem that the list of those I must punish grows long,” he kept his voice cold. It was gratifying when Lance flinched. He may be a philandering sod, but he cared for Isabella, his sister. It was not in Lance's nature to kill, especially not if the one who would be killed was his relation.

However, this did not excuse him from the punishment he would receive. “Calling attention to this would do little good at this point. We will let her think we do not know of her actions. We shall wait. Let Jareth do what he may.”

Lance's throat bobbed before he spoke. “What if he is too late?”

Arthur looked at Lance coldly. “Pray he is not.”

From the shadows came a movement. It came as little surprise when Caledonensis stepped forward, his face almost what Arthur would call amused. “The Goblin King has always had an impeccable sense of timing. Before the challenge was issued, Jareth spoke to me today. We shared some mutual speculation regarding the challenges. Everyone knew you were involved. Jareth's direct involvement is unfortunate, especially this late in the challenges, however, he will not allow Lady Sarah to die. He'd rather lose her.”

“Given the circumstances, the laws broken, the direct tampering with her trials, Sarah will not leave the Underground. She has more than proven herself, and if I must convince the court of this, so be it. Caledonensis, contact the swarm queen, Septimus, and Nivaine. I'll send my fastest messenger to contact Jareth and inform him that the presence of the Fisher King will be required.”

Guenevere smiled at her husband and spoke softly so only he could hear. “I do love it when you get all fierce, my king.

He gave her a faint smile, then returned his gaze to the other's in the room. “Lance, find a way to get Alura into the receiving room before Sarah's return. Gwenny, find Jeremy. Inform him that the family of Sarah Williams has permission to enter the Underground for at least one week. I shall make certain that Morgaine is there as well, and inform the court that we shall reconvene in closed court this evening through tomorrow.” He stood abruptly. “We must work quickly. Time is of the essence. You have your orders. Go now.”

Arthur took a deep breath as everyone began moving to obey him and when the room was empty, he firmed his lips. That girl had worked too hard for someone to take her right away from her.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Hopelessness was a strange feeling.

The Fisher King had noticed as soon as she'd pulled the strangely carved box from her pack that there was something dark and malignant about it. A spell wrapped around it, camouflaging something far worse within. It would have been a lovely box, would have contained the Grail quite well. It was just the right size, and he couldn't help but wonder if that was not intentional.

Those spells must have grabbed her as soon as her bare flesh came in contact with the wood. He'd tried to stop her, would have turned the box towards himself. He had the training to deflect such spells, however he could do nothing. He'd seen the fear in her eyes as her hands moved with a mind of their own. A compulsion spell, cleverly implanted into the box.

It was a sharp reminder as to why aristocrats in the Underground wore gloves whenever they handled something foreign. Had none of her companions warned her of the way that spells latched into flesh? Both during casting and activation, contact with the skin was essential. If flesh did not touch the surface, the spell would not be activated, would simply remain on the surface until the magic faded or one with the knowledge wiped it away.

And so there was little he could do as she opened the box.

Her eyes rolled upwards and the box clattered to the floor as she slumped out of the chair. Those eyes closed completely and she was heading for the floor.

Carefully, he caught her, preventing the possibility of further injury and he slowly eased her to the floor. “Assistance,” he called, his voice sharp and demanding, even to him.

The girl's hand felt frightfully cold in his grip. It was limp, her face was still, almost peaceful. It reminded him disturbingly of death.

Servants arrived nearly immediately, took note of the fallen guest and their healed king and gasps of surprise went up. He gave them one sharp look, which silenced their chattering. “Take the lady to a room, make certain she's comfortable.” He turned to a youngish boy. “You, ride to Avalon and contact either the High King, or a man called Jareth and inform them that the Lady Sarah is in need of-”

Movement was already blurring around him. Two servants lifted Sarah with great care, set her onto a stiff board for transport, a healer was hovering over her, trying to determine what had happened. Another servant was using a square of linen to pick up the box. The messenger was already gone from the doorway, and Bran could hear orders shouted through the castle.

Amusing, how they were so eager to help this Lady. Then again, they probably realized what she'd done for him; for them.

He pushed himself to his feet, then waved a hand, indicating that another servant should get her pack, then followed the servants which were moving Sarah to a room.

Upon entering, he noticed the window was wide open and a few were standing there, waving the clean air from outside into the room, clearing the stagnant air within. “Is the Lady alright?” he asked the healer, keeping his voice low.

The healer looked up, concerned. “I know not. She feels as though dead, however, her breath still moves in her lungs, her heart still beats. It is death...without death. The body lives. I don't understand why or how.”

Looking down at her, Bran had a theory. Her hand was wrapped tightly around a crystal pendant at her throat. Funny how he'd not noticed the little necklace before. Then again, it shouldn't have surprised him. The pendant was small enough to be barely noticed, pretty enough that no one would question it around a woman's neck. However, from within the pendant came a powerful sensation. Another spelled object, this one personal, perhaps a gift from her Jareth.

Bran was old, but he'd never failed to appreciate a woman's appearance. He'd noticed before she'd fallen, had seen everything, but he'd not yet realized what it was she wore. She was so full of vitality and her eyes were so unusual that he'd had trouble seeing much more than her face. Now, however, he could see she wore more than half a dozen items radiating protection. Even the cloak that she'd worn – which a servant draped over her, as though it were a blanket – radiated that same sensation from the very materials used to make it. Even the clasp, which if he was correct was designed by faeries. For them to personally design and craft anything for a human spoke volumes for this girl's connections.

Likely this girl did not even realize, nor was she likely to take advantage of the fact that her connections were so powerful. She was an unusual creature. Intelligent, perhaps a little over-confident. Gentle, kind, and surprisingly strong-willed.

With an age-worn hand, Bran gently brushed her hair back from her face, looking down at her. A soft sigh escaped him. There was truly nothing he could do besides keep her safe and wait for those who could fix this to come and rescue her. Sighing softly, he moved out of the room, heading towards his own study.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he'd nearly fell from the sky when he'd felt Sarah's panic through the connection between then through the crystal. Now, however, there was a frightening near-void where she used to be. He couldn't feel her through their connection, only the faintest trace of defiance, which told him she was fighting tooth and nail.

There was a firm pull from his lady, telling him 'here I am, come this way'. The magic from the water hadn't faded yet. He'd seen the castle before the sun had set, and had spent the past five minutes flying around it. The pull came from a window that was standing open, despite the biting cold. Screeching in frustration, he dove towards the window, changing his form the moment he was clear of the entrance.

He was exhausted, his hands were shaking with fear and weariness, but seeing Sarah laying upon the bed, so still, so weak, he nearly released his rage, not really caring at the moment who he took out with it. Then, there was the barely perceptible rise and fall of her chest, before it rose again. He rushed towards her, climbing onto the bed beside her, tearing off his glove and gripping her wrist. There was the faintest feeling of her blood pulsing in her veins.

His head dropped and his breath sobbed from him. “Alive,” he whispered in relief. He could worry about the babes later. Now, however, he had to take care of the woman. He opened the water skin, holding it against her lips. He poured some into her mouth, frowning when she sputtered and turned her head to the side, the water spilling mostly down the side of her face.

“Don't defy me, Sarah!” he snarled, lifting the skin to his own lips, taking a mouthful of the water. He leaned down over her, pressing his mouth against hers, his mouth forcing hers open, his tongue entering her mouth to taste her even as the spring water poured into her mouth. With a snarl, he tore his mouth from hers, using one hand to hold her mouth shut and the other plugging her nose. “Swallow it,” he growled at her. She struggled, sputtered, flailing weakly before she finally swallowed the water. When her throat bobbed, he pulled her forcefully against his chest, embracing her tightly. “Sarah,” he whispered against her skin. “If you don't wake up, I'll come into this dream after you and I'll make you, you damn fool...”

“Who're you callin' a fool?” A hoarse voice murmured back, lips moving lightly against his ear. “You overbearing jerk...”

He pulled back, looking down into her green eyes. She still looked so weak, but at least she was awake. “Who do you think, love?” He pulled her close again, pressing his face against the silk shirt he'd given her. He didn't want her to see the emotions on his face, so he clutched her, almost desperately. He ignored the trails being carved down his face, until the shoulder of the shirt became damp enough to notice.

“Jareth...” Sarah whispered.

He didn't lift his face, instead, turning his head and kissing the side of her neck gently. He opened his mouth just enough to taste her skin. “The spell is still there. I must remove it. Just give me a moment, Sarah, then we can discuss whatever you wish...” 

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Jareth didn't straighten as he worked.

His face was tucked against her neck, his arms tight around her, as though frightened that if he released her, she would slip away from him. Her shoulder was damp, and she had a nagging suspicion that her lover had spilled a few grateful tears on her shoulder. Knowing his ego, she knew better than to ask or suggest that he had. She she simply sat there, in the arms of the Goblin King.

She didn't know where she was, but the bed she was on was soft, the room lavishly decorated. Not Jareth's taste, nor was it anything she'd seen in Avalon. The only other castle in the Underground she'd visited was the home of the Fisher King.

The man holding her pulled away after a moment, pulling on his gloves, and then he reached for the box which she recognized. She flinched at the sight of it. “Jareth, no-”

“It's fine, love. I'm not touching it with my skin.” He lifted it, flipping it open, then he rested a hand gently against her chest and there was a strange pulling sensation, as though something was wrapped around her heart and reluctant to let go.

“How do you know what to do this time?” she asked softly, trying not to disturb him.

Almost amused mis-matched eyes lifted to her face. “Well, love, when you left last time, I did what I usually do when I'm emotionally upset. I did a great deal of studying in my library. Threw myself into my work so to speak, and after the last time, I'd have been a fool not to do some studying regarding how to remove death spells from those I care for.”

She lowered her face, hiding a blush. The blush faded when she noticed the almost black, malevolent feeling, cloudy substance coming from her chest, resting in Jareth's hand. She shuddered slightly, swallowing hard. “What is...that?”

“The death spell designed to wrap around your heart and likely crush it. Clever, but crude. My mother's sensibilities regarding things such as this is much more subtle.” He sounded wry, but there was an underlying panic in his voice. “Now, precious, don't move and don't speak. I must concentrate.”

So she didn't move, she didn't speak, not until Jareth put that curious black ball of malevolence back into its box. As he'd closed the box, he had relaxed enough to let her know the danger had passed, she threw her arms around him tightly, upsetting his balance and knocking him off the bed and onto the floor.

Her knees scraped on the floor a bit, but she didn't care. She heard fabric tear, heard a soft curse from the man beneath her, but before more than that came from his mouth, her lips pressed to his and thus she silenced him. 

His arms came up around her, a hand fisting in her hair, the other pressing her painfully close to him. He came alive, fighting against her for dominance, his hands tugging her shirt free from the skirt, slipping beneath to feel her soft skin. “Sarah...” he breathed.

Neither of them quite registered the sound of the door opening until there was the sound of an almost amused man coming from the entryway.

“Well, well. Sorry to intrude, Lady Sarah.”

His lady turned an attractive shade of red and drew back, even as they both glanced towards the door. “Er, I'm better now, Bran.”

The man standing in the doorway was dressed well, his head held high, his black hair heavily silvered at the temples. It hung loose down to his shoulders. “Yes, I see that.” A merry twinkle entered those pale blue eyes, even as they moved towards him. “You must be Jareth. The lady spoke of you.”

Jareth coughed faintly, standing and giving his lady a hand up. “Yes, I'm Jareth, Sarah's...fiancée. Among other things.”

Sarah leaned against Jareth, her arm going around his waist. “What are you doing here, Jareth?” She asked softly. He glanced towards her, his amusement drawing a smile upon his face.

“What do you think, Precious? Saving your lovely backside again.” He glanced towards Bran, the Fisher King and his eyes shone with predatory amusement. “Fisher King, I've a favor to ask.”

“I think I can grant a favor for the fiancée of the woman who saved my kingdom.” The man was agreeable. That was good.

Jareth bared his teeth in a feral smile. “Very good.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Alura paced back and forth, her lips pulled into a tight frown. When Lance entered, she stormed towards him. “You've got some nerve asking to talk to me after chickening out on our deal!” She snapped, then slapped his face. “You would have been a king and I would have been your queen. All you had to do was help me get rid of that Aboveground usurper!”

Lance lifted a hand, touching his cheek lightly. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, leaning against a tall support pillar. “I have my reasons, Alura. I wont hang myself. When Arthur finds out – and he will find out, Alura – I'll be punished dearly as it is. Killing that girl outright as you wished would just bring down the entire court upon me, and I'll not sacrifice my station for anyone. Especially not a wench whose only interest in men is based on their status in life.”

She laughed at him. “Don't play innocent, Lance. It was your idea in the first place! It was a way to punish that pansy ass Jareth by getting rid of his mortal slut! He'd have to marry me, I'm the only one who'd have him, and after we were married, offing him would have been a breeze!”

“Get rid of doesn't mean kill her.”

“Don't be an ass, Lance-”

“I think I've heard enough,” a voice from behind them, and Alura whipped around, finding the curtained veil opening and revealing the High King and Queen, as well as the rest of the court sitting behind the rail which separated them from the circle she and Lance stood within.

Desperation obvious on her face, she began backing away. “This isn't what it sounds like!”

“If only that were true...” Arthur said, his voice quiet, but firm. However, Lance has already informed me of the circumstances. Guards, you may bring in the other prisoner.”

Morgaine was led into the room, her hands bound but her clothes clean, her hair brushed, and otherwise dressed appropriately for court. She dipped into a curtsy.

“It is extremely troubling to find that within this kingdom that there is such corruption. Death spells being sent to people left and right, not just here in the Underground, but going into the Above and affecting mortals. Those who would seduce married women for no reason more than a feather in their hat. Interference in challenges meant to determine the will of an immigrant, to test if they are meant to be here.” Finally, his eyes fell upon Alura. “Interference to the point that the girl received a gift of death placed into a box.”

Alura opened her mouth to speak, however, at that moment, the door behind her burst open.

First came a small swarm of faeries, the Swarm Queen and her entourage of guards. Then, the lumbering night trolls, led by Septimus. The next guest was a tall willowy female with long, slightly curled, red hair who had two tiny dragons on her shoulders.

Finally, entered a man with black hair, heavily silvered at the temples, wearing a seal of station, as well as a long blue cloak. The man strode forward, and bowed deeply before Arthur. “Arthur.”

Arthur stood, moving down the stairs. “Bran.” His eyes glittered with amusement as he glanced towards those who tried and failed to interfere with the progress of Sarah Williams. “You look well.”

“Wonderfully so,” the man agreed. “I was told you required my presence.”

“Indeed.” Arthur glanced towards Caledonensis and nodded. When the wizened man slipped from the room, and the High King returned his attention to those before him. “Unfortunately, before I may dole out punishment, there is another issue which I must attend.”

Murmurs of confusion went up among those in the court, until the door opened, revealing Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus, who walked forward into the circle, preceding the Goblin King. Jareth wore a black crushed velvet frock coat, with icy blue ruffles at the cuffs and neck, black wool breeches, and fine leather boots polished to a mirror shine. He wore his trademark smirk, tinted just slightly peach with gloss. There was a hint of glitter in his wild hair.

Not a moment later, three frazzled adults, and two much more confident children were ushered into the room, around to the back, with the exception of a small blond haired, blue eyed boy, who came up to stand beside Jareth. Then, just after everyone had finally caught their breath and seemed to think that all the unexpected guests had entered, the doors opened again and in stepped a breathtaking woman with dark hair and freckled skin. She was wearing a simple dress of white, and around her neck was a small pendant, a symbol of station.

This woman was the Goblin Queen.

Whispers of surprise went up around the room as they realized who this girl was, what that symbol meant.

“She's late,” one man said. “Goblin King, how dare you over-look our lands laws?!”

There was a snarl of rage from the boy at Jareth's side. The woman looked towards the man who spoke, a calm expression on her face.

Alura sputtered, looking from the mortal girl towards Jareth. “That's illegal, Jareth,” she sounded petulant, childish. “If she doesn't complete her trials, she's banned from the Underground-”

Green eyes turned towards her and Sarah Williams walked up until she stood directly in front of Alura. “Shut up you spoiled little twit.” She said, her voice cold as winter. “Jareth did not marry me until after I completed the final task. We wed in the castle of Bran the Blessed.”

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “And seeing as the Fisher King stands there quite healed, I'd say her success is rather obvious.”

Jareth just smiled that irritatingly superior smile. When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with amusement. “And considering the trouble you're already in, all three of you should really keep your mouths shut...”

Sarah moved past the three prisoners, standing at Jareth's side. She bowed deeply before the High King, then straightened, slipping her hand into her husbands.

The Goblin King spoke. “I only brought her here for one reason. We seek your blessing, Arthur. She has passed her trials, and earned her right to reside in the Underground. She did so despite these trials being tampered with, being unnecessarily difficult. She won, in spite of the fact that there are two babes growing in her belly. My children.”

Before Arthur could speak, the Faery Queen fluttered forward, placed a hand on either side of Sarah's nose, then did the same to Jareth, drawing surprised gasps from those in the gallery. It was considered a gift to be touched by the swarm, and being kissed by their queen was unheard of. Further surprise occurred when Septimus of the night trolls came forth and set one great hand upon Sarah and another on Jareth's shoulder. He said something that neither understood, then moved away.

He'd barely left them when the fiery-haired, blue-eyed woman stepped before them. She gave them both a broad smile and then leaned forward, kissing both on the cheek. “You are both greatly fortunate.”

“Your blessing means a great deal, Nivaine.”

Sarah inclined her head in curiosity, then focused on the two small dragons upon her shoulder. “Jasper? Lapis?”

They fluttered over, landing on her shoulder, still obviously bickering with each other even as they whispered something she didn't really understand into her ear. Their forked tongues tickled as they did, and she giggled a bit.

Caledonensis stepped down, and Sarah blinked hard as she realized the man looked a great deal younger than when they'd first met. She gave Jareth a confused glance, and he winked at her. Once Caledonensis led Nivaine away, he leaned towards her, whispering to her. “The Lady of the Lake. Part of her gift is that she can reverse the aging process around...certain people. Caledonensis is affected because he wishes he could be young for her.”

“Does he know...?”

He gave her a secretive smile, then returned his gaze towards his uncle, smiling broadly. “Well,” he said dryly. “It seems that it doesn't really matter if you give your blessing. The rest of the Underground has already recognized our union.”

Arthur stood, moving towards them, Guenevere at his side. “It might not matter, however, I offer it regardless. May you live long, full lives together as King and Queen of the Goblins. I suppose the only real question is this...when shall the wedding take place?”

Guenevere smiled mischievously. “You realize that this means you must remain here until it does? While your wedding before Bran is legal and binding, I certainly hope you wouldn't deny the collective family their right to see you two wed.”

Jareth glanced towards Sarah, his eyes lit up with amusement. “Sarah deserves a big ceremony anyways-”

“I object! I object! He was supposed to be mine! That was supposed to be MY crown! I'll not let some little mortal bitch usurp my position!”

Everyone turned in time to see Alura break free of the guards, and she ran towards them, her hands hooked like claws. Even Jareth was surprised to see this, however Sarah...

Sarah took a single step forward, and slammed her fist into the pretty, flawless face of her attacker, her lips pulled into a tight frown. It was over so fast, no one had the opportunity to react. Alura crumpled, bleeding from her nose, clutching it as bright red spilled onto her silk gloves.

“Damn,” Jareth muttered. “I wanted to be the one to hit her.”

The guards collected the girl, taking her back over to the others. Arthur turned towards them. “Jareth, Sarah, please take your respective places. There is, unfortunately, one other matter that the court must deal with...” He led Guenevere to her place, and Jareth led Sarah's to her own and all four sat. The other guests of the court stood around the outside of the room.

“Lady Morgaine, step forward.”

Her head held high, she stepped into the circle.

“You stand here accused of multiple murders in the Underground, among the aristocracy. You also stand accused of blackmail, coercion, and the attempted murder of Sarah Williams. How do you plead.” Arthur's voice was firm, but there was a sadness in his eyes.

She lowered her gaze. “I...plead guilty...” She sounded uncertain.

He nodded. “You are sentenced-”

“Your Highness, if I may make a request.” Sarah stood up. At Arthur's nod, she continued. “While she is not blood kin, she is kin of my children, and that makes her family. I...would ask that she be placed in our care. She is not young, and...Jareth tells me that he believes that she is not in full control of her mental faculties.”

Arthur inclined his head, and then nodded. “I see no problem with that, Lady Sarah. Lady Morgaine, you will be taken into the care of the Goblin King and Queen, however, your punishment must come from me.” He took a deep breath. “Caledonensis will strip you of your gift. Since you've used it for ill, it will be removed from you completely.“

Jareth winced. Several of the others in the court gasped in shock. Arthur simply turned his gaze towards Lance as his sister crumpled on the ground. “You...It is tempting to exile you from the Underground, make you live out the rest of your life with those you hold in such contempt. However, I shall not. Only because you decided to come forward and confess to your crimes voluntarily shall you be spared that fate.”

Lance trembled, his face was pale, although he still held his back straight. “What is my fate, your highness?” He sounded grim and resigned.

The High King looked down upon him, his expression solemn. “You are cast from my court. You will be sent to the Abbey of the city of St. Augustine to live as a monk for the next thirty years. If your attitude and behavior are improved by your stay, you may return to Avalon, and be reconsidered for a position at court.”

For a Lothario like Lance, that punishment was going to be hell, anyways.

Those bright blue eyes turned towards Alura. “Duke Kent, since you could not contain your daughter yourself, you shall pay a price as well. You are removed from the court. Your daughter, however...” His face grew cold. “You, like Morgaine, used your magic for ill, and so it shall be removed. Your status and title are stripped from you. You may live in the home of your father, however you are not to set foot into this castle, nor any other castle, ever again. Ten years of service to your community, for turning my laws into a political game, and another five for the attempt on the life of Sarah Williams.”

“You can't do that!” she cried.

His expression turned to ice. “You are lucky I do not have you drug outside and publicly whipped, young lady. It would likely do worlds of good for your terrible personality!”

She drew up big, theatrical tears, and began sobbing, turning towards Jareth. When she found no sympathy, she cast her eyes to the gallery. While some of them may dislike the idea of Sarah being made queen, they would not show her any pity. In their eyes, she'd broken their laws, laws which were in place for very good reasons. “It's not fair!” she cried out, her lower lip trembling.

There was a snort from the side of the Goblin King, and her eyes whirled towards the girl sitting there, who had a look of slight amusement on her face. “When I was fifteen years old...” Sarah began, her tone filled with repressed laughter. “I learned a very difficult lesson from the Goblin King. That lesson was this: life isn't fair. It was hardly fair that my challenges were tampered with. It wasn't fair that I had my sight and mind taken from me, and I'd say it was the opposite of fair to have a little box of death placed innocuously into my travel pack.”

Jareth glanced towards her, amused as well. “I taught you that lesson?”

“You know you did.” She said, just enough bite under the laugh in her voice.

Arthur stood, looking down at those who were accused, tried, and sentenced. “Guards, take these to their cell. Morgaine, when the Goblin King returns to his castle, he will retrieve you. Lance, the monks will come pick you up in a few days.” He paused and looked at Alura. “You'll be staying with your father, and he will take you home bright and early tomorrow morning. I think an evening in a cell would do you some good.”

The guards marched their prisoners out of the large gallery. Slowly, people began filtering out of the gallery, and once the room was empty save the Goblin King and extended family, Arthur sank into his chair, putting his forehead in his hand.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Sarah hugged her little brother tightly. “It's good to see you, little brother.”

He gave her a pointed look. “I get to hear the rest of the story before we leave.” He said it calmly, matter-of-fact, and it drew a smile to Sarah's face.

Smacking her brother on the cheek with her lips, she replied. “Of course.” She hugged her father and step-mother when they came towards her, after hesitating a bit, behind Toby. Her father, naturally inquired if she was healthy, and she explained that she was fine.

Before she could greet her mother and step-sister, Caledonensis came forward. “You, young lady, are brash, fool-hardy, and probably have more courage than any lady I've met to date. That said, I'm sure your family and Arthur will want to choke you when you tell them you're pregnant.”

The room went silent. Almost deathly so. Sarah swore mentally when she glanced out of the corner of her eyes and saw Arthur was already striding towards her. She gave the magician a half-hearted glare. “Thanks a lot, Cal.”

He just gave her a faint smile.

“Did I just hear my advisor properly?!” Arthur was livid. His face was actually flushing from his increased blood pressure. “Are you pregnant?! And you've known how long?!”

She pursed her lips. “A bit,” she admitted, feeling a little off guard.

He spun towards Jareth. “Did you know?!”

“Only after the second challenge.” The younger king shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal. “Since she and I have already discussed this, there's really no need for you to have more words than I did.”

Arthur paused to consider this. Then, he fixed Sarah with a tight lipped frown. “Alright, young lady. You are confined to your room for the rest of the evening. You can have as many guests as you feel comfortable with, however, if I catch you standing for more than ten minutes, I'll be certain to discuss suitable punishments with your king.”

She gave him a sassy smile. “Yes Uncle Arty.”

Guenevere let out a loud snort of laughter, and Jareth rubbed the underside of his nose.

Arthur stared at her for a long moment and then turned to Jareth. “Get this woman out of here.”

The Goblin King grinned and before Sarah could dodge, he scooped her up into his arms, and glanced at her family. “You can follow if you wish,” he said, his voice ripe with amusement as Sarah swore at him, struggling in his arms. “Precious, do sit still. It would do you little good for me to lose my grip and drop you.”

Pouting at him, she went still. “Tyrant,” she muttered.

He winked at her. “I'll make it up to you later.”


	16. Epilogue

Needless to say, the wedding of the Goblin King to his Queen, followed by her coronation, was a busy affair, both in planning and in execution. They went ahead and had a ceremony in Avalon, since her family was already there. Morgaine was permitted attendance, but she had a heavy guard. She left early.

Long before the wedding occurred, Lance was sent off to the monastery, and Alura went off to her own fate. Caledonensis arranged with Toby, Robert and Karen for lessons in the Above, so that Toby would learn to control his own magic. Toby was caught between amazed and highly intimidated by the presence of the great magician that most called Caledonensis, Sarah called Cal, and Arthur called Merlin.

After the official ceremony, Jareth and Sarah saw her family home, Jareth kindly re-ordering time to make up for them being missing in action for nearly two months. By now, Sarah had the faintest bulge growing and had to have several gowns made for her to wear while pregnant. Her Karen and Linda both promised to buy her some maternity clothing from the Above, just to keep her up to date with fashion in both realms.

Morgaine's powers were removed in a quiet ceremony, after which, the older woman didn't speak much. Jareth didn't know how much of her age she'd kept hidden by those spells, until they'd been wiped away by Caledonensis's skillful hands. After the ceremony, Jareth gathered his wife and mother up and they rode in his carriage back to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. During the trip, Sarah drug the woman out of her self-imposed shell, but talking about how much she'd be counting on Morgaine's help with the twins.

That perked Gramma Morgaine up right away.

Naturally, upon arriving in their home, the goblins threw an impromptu party, celebrating the union of Jareth and Sarah, the upcoming birth of the twins, and – just for good measure – a chicken's birthday.

Whether or not it was actually that chicken's birthday, no one was truly certain.

Time passed, and nearly every month, Jareth found his castle inundated by Sarah's family, the whole of it, sometimes, but usually Robert, Karen and Toby. As she moved through her pregnancy, her doting husband witnessed the babies first movements, rode his wife's hormonal moods, and found that swollen with child, she was still the most beautiful woman in the world to him.

During the birth, she swore up and down that she'd never let him set hand on her again, which of course was an empty threat, since as soon as she was able, they were back in bed, enjoying themselves, although they were far more responsible about it than when she'd wandered unknowingly into his chambers the first time.

They still argued, sometimes so fiercely that they shook the very foundations of the castle, yet they were more passionately in love with each other as days passed, and together, they watched their son and daughter go from wrinkly newborn, to chubby infant, until finally the day that Aislynn, their daughter, got her feet under her and started tearing around the castle. Only a few days later, Aidyn, their son, did the same.

The castle had many visitors now. Septimus often came to visit, bringing gifts of wooden toys for the children, as well as warm blankets made from their fur, after being bleached and then dyed colors suitable for children. Nivaine would bring the dragons (in their small form, of course), and they would wrestle with the two toddlers. The faeries brought their own manner of gifts when they came to visit, and Bran would come with several servants loaded with baby clothing.

In short, they were probably the most spoiled children in the Underground, with the possible exception of Princess Penelope, Guenevere and Arthur's daughter.

Now, the Goblin King was lounging in a boneless manner on his throne, his wife and queen curled up on his lap, her head tucked under his chin. His steady breaths stirred her bangs slightly and he slept, even as he held Sarah in one arm and Aislynn in the other, both sound asleep. Against Sarah's shoulder rested Aidyn, also sleeping. Around the throne was a mass of sleeping goblins.

Sarah stirred, glancing around the throne, noticing that there was the faintest light of twilight outside, and she snuggled into her husband's chest. She'd spoken to Caledonensis that morning. She had decided to not tell Jareth when she'd set aside her contraceptives. She'd found that she could now focus her abilities to sense life within herself, but she trusted Cal for a second opinion. She gave a faint smile and gently stroked her son's back.

“You seem pleased with yourself, Precious.” Jareth's voice was slightly slurred from sleep. She felt him press a kiss to her head, felt his lips curl into a smile.

“What do you think about the name Kieran for a boy?” she asked, her own smile growing broad.

She felt the man still a bit. She could almost feel his eyes peering down at her. “Sarah-mine, is that your way of saying you're ready for a third little terror who can not only wear us out, but also the entirety of the castle's goblins?”

She inclined her head to look up at him, putting on her best 'innocent' look. She must have failed miserably, because her husband looked nervous. “Actually, darling, that's my way of saying I'm pregnant.”


End file.
